


You Caught Me (Say You'll Never Let Me Go)

by EffortlesslyOpulent, sam_kom_trashkru



Series: catch me [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Catch Me I'm Falling, College AU, F/F, Fluff, Lexa's still a jock, Sequel, Smut, Some angst, clarke's still an artist, cmif, they're still lovesick losers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 97,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffortlesslyOpulent/pseuds/EffortlesslyOpulent, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_kom_trashkru/pseuds/sam_kom_trashkru
Summary: Following the events of "Catch Me, I'm Falling"- Clarke and Lexa continue their journey at Polis University. Lexa is quick to ascend the social ladder, focusing nearly all of her efforts and attention on her athletics, her school, and recently, working to impress her parents. Clarke, on the other hand, tries to distance herself from Lexa's newfound fame, and embarks on a journey to find herself.ORThe College AU where Lexa's a lovesick football player, Clarke's a lovesick artist, and together, they take on the world.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the kind words and amazing support! It's been such a fun story to tell, and Sam and I are thankful for all the kind words, the crazy asks on tumblr, the comments, the kudos, the cool nominations and fandom awards- it's so humbling. We hope you enjoy the next installment in these two nerds' lives. 
> 
> *Note: Chapter 1 is more a prequel than a chapter, but it should give an idea of what's to come. Also I wrote it alone so- Sam's work comes in next chapter, if you survive till then! ;)
> 
> Another journey begins…

Clarke Griffin hadn’t set an alarm clock in weeks.

Clarke woke up to soft, plump lips pressing against her cheek, then grazing her jawline, kisses fluttering along the side of her neck. Her breathing picked up with each press of those lips, feeling familiar arms pull her closer. She could almost see what was happening in the room without even opening her eyes. The sunlight would be filtering in through the curtains, right about now. The birds would be singing, if she actually tuned in to the world outside of her dreams. Alexandria Anastasia Woods would be pressed up against her, gently caressing her awake, golden strands alight from the sun in her brunette waves.

Sometimes, rarely enough, it actually _did_ pay to be an artist.

Not in the form of money, unfortunately, but in the form of her mind’s eye, with perfect 20/20 vision. She could conjure gorgeous imagery without ever having to open her eyes.

But, oh, looking at her girlfriend was what got her going in the mornings.

“Clarke.” Lexa rolled her name off her tongue in that curious way that only Lexa could do, the way that made Clarke’s toes curl and her spine tingle. The whisper was warm, soft, and oh so enticing. Lexa was calling to her like a siren.

“Mmmm.” Clarke grumbled, turning her face to bury it into Lexa’s chest.

“Time to wake up.” Lexa nuzzled her neck with the tip of her nose, tickling Clarke slightly.

Clarke’s eyes flew open in surprise and she leaned back, glancing up at Lexa.

She was spot on, with her vision. Lexa was wearing some old band tee of Clarke’s, her brunette mane tousled from the slumber she’d just emerged from.

Clarke always thought it odd that Lexa always woke up at seven a.m. sharp. It was her weird internal body clock, both a curse on the weekends, and a blessing on the weekdays.

She offered to wake Clarke up, rather than the harsh buzzing and blaring of her phone alarm, and who was Clarke to refuse such a divine offer?

“Good morning, Clarke.” Lexa greeted softly, a smile gracing her features. It wasn’t something that ever really got old-waking up next to Clarke. It was something she cherished endlessly, something she couldn’t ever really believe. Lexa was seen as the goddess-like football star, the rich heiress, physical perfection- but the truth was far colder. Clarke saw her for the broken girl she was, with the absence of familial support marring her childhood. She always lived in the quiet fear of abandonment, and Clarke- being her closest friend and lover, was the one she feared losing most. So, waking up beside her every morning was a quiet, soothing sort of amelioration to the fear. It reminded her that Clarke longed to be nowhere else. Clarke loved her, and chose her. That was a concept Lexa would never, ever take for granted.

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” Clarke asked, when she noticed that Lexa was lost in a smile and a dreamy gaze, forgetting to answer her.

“You.” Lexa replied honestly, smirking when Clarke’s fingers appreciatively traced her bicep.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” Clarke batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, earning a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I would, but in case you forgot, today is the first day of classes. No time.” Lexa announced, clearing her throat as she slipped out of bed.

“Oh. Right.” Clarke groaned.

“What, you’re not excited to put that art scholarship to work?” Lexa challenged.

“I kind of enjoyed our summer routine of lazy days and hot nights. In more ways than one.” Clarke shrugged, flopping back onto her pillow.

“Might I entice you with a hot shower?” Lexa asked craftily.

Clarke lifted a brow. “...You have my attention.” she teased, playing into her spoiled act a bit more. Lexa knew she was nervous and excited to meet her peers in the art program and begin pursuing her dream.

Lexa strode over to Clarke’s side of the bed. “A lift?” She quipped, and Clarke’s eyes lit up. Lexa laughed melodiously as she slid her arms under Clarke, effortlessly lifting her up. Clarke’s face was inches away from Lexa’s as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Hi.” Clarke murmured, closing her eyes, leaning forward, wordlessly seeking her morning kiss.

“Hi.” Lexa murmured back, pressing a hungry kiss to Clarke’s lips, keeping it at bay and relatively chaste, so that she could maneuver to the bathroom.

“What time is it? 7:04?” Clarke questioned.

Lexa glanced at her phone, nodding before setting Clarke down and moving to start the water.

“Okay, we both have a psychology lecture at ten, right? That’s our first class?” Clarke double checked for just about the millionth time, clinging to her one safe haven class with Lexa.

“Mhmm.” Lexa hummed. “Psych with professor Asher. In Lecture hall D.”

“...Asher. I wonder if she’ll be hot?” Clarke thought aloud.

“...No. Psych teachers are never hot. They’re always seventy and above.” Lexa informed Clarke with a look of amusement.

“Have you ever seen her?” Clarke shot back.

“Well, no, but-”

“Good. Let’s make a bet.”

“On the first day of class? Is that the wisest idea?” Lexa sighed, rubbing her neck.

“Oh my god. You know, once upon a time, I dated the cocky rebel quarterback. She would’ve loved a fun bet.”

“You want her? You got her.” Lexa smirked, pulling Clarke’s shirt off.

Clarke felt a familiar rush of heat, straight down to her core. That never got old.

Lexa lifted off her own shirt with ease, sending it falling onto the floor beside Clarke’s. Lexa stepped into the shower, extending her hand out for Clarke to join her. (Clarke found it adorable that, even in her sexually predatory mode, she was still such a sweetheart).

Clarke watched as Lexa submerged herself under the thick rain of droplets streaming from their shower head. Lexa’s hair slicked back behind her, and little droplets and running streams of water beaded and ebbed over her tanned skin, over the peaks of her breast and the valley created by her abs. Her tattoos looked especially prominent, glazed over by diamond-like drops.

Clarke licked her lips, standing there, unaware that she was shivering from the droplets that were hitting her, as she was only a quarter way into the stream. She was just so taken by Lexa’s raw beauty that she’d forgotten to warm herself and rinse.

“Clarke?” Lexa paused, cracking an eye open when she noticed Clarke was just standing there, gaping at her. “You’re shivering! Come here.” She opened her arms, and it was the most inviting sight in the world to Clarke.

Clarke stepped forward, feeling Lexa’s arms envelop her, along with the piping hot water, streaming down her skin, leaving steam in its wake.

“You’re beautiful.” She croaked, glancing up into Lexa’s forest green gaze.

Lexa blushed, as if it were the first time Clarke ever told her.

Clarke laughed a little at the thought and turned, reaching for the shampoo. She motioned for Lexa to turn, and she gently began kneading it onto Lexa’s scalp, laughing even harder when she heard Lexa’s almost purr-like noises of pleasure. Clarke adored having Lexa be so open, intimate, and soft with her. When she first met Lexa, she’d been guarded, cocky, a false sense of arrogance to cover her need for intimacy and tender affection.

Clarke finished her little massage-like movements, and quickly received similar treatment from Lexa. They continued with their conditioner and body wash, tending to each other as lovingly as possible, often humming in content.

It was the picture of absolute serenity and bliss.

...Right until the end, when Lexa pulled Clarke against her, both of them facing forward. Clarke felt Lexa’s left arm move to knead her breast, while her right crept towards Clarke’s inner thigh.

God, Clarke was the image of perfection, blonde hair slicked back by the water, rivulets of water streaming down between her round breasts, down her stomach, adorning her scar, before sliding between her legs, the creamy skin there looking entirely too enticing for Lexa to resist. She felt the heat pool in her lower abdomen, and before she knew it, she was reaching hungrily for her girlfriend, an absolute slave to her urges.

“Oh.” Clarke yelped in surprise, voice picking up a decibel or two. “Do we-”

“-We have plenty of time, Clarke.” Lexa assured. “But if you’d prefer-”

“-No.” Clarke quickly reassured her, touched that Lexa always checked for Clarke’s feelings before diving right in. “Please. I need to...get some extra energy out.”

Clarke felt Lexa chuckle behind her, long elegant fingers pinching and rolling a nipple between them, eliciting a groan from Clarke. Clarke felt the familiar clench between her thighs and mewled a soft response, leaning back into Lexa’s touch.

Lexa rolled her water-slicked abs and hips against Clarke's shapely ass in a sort of possessive humping motion that made Clarke cry out with need. She loved Lexa’s ability to seamlessly fall into a position of dominance like that.

“Do you like that, Clarke?” Lexa's voice was entirely too teasing. Clarke knew she wasn't getting satisfaction just yet- Lexa was just toying with her. Grinding up against Clarke for her own satisfaction.

Clarke's thighs clenched tighter at the idea of Lexa _using_ her.

“ _Please_ fuck me.” Clarke pleaded, whimpering after every odd thrust of Lexa’s hips, feeling Lexa’s hands on either side of her waist, keeping her from moving.

“Oh, I will.”

Lexa’s fingers softly pinched the inside of Clarke’s thigh, causing her to yelp slightly.

“Don’t tease.” Clarke pouted.

Lexa smirked. “Sorry.” Her voice begged to differ. She grazed her fingertips against Clarke’s clit, ignoring it in favor of uselessly circling her lips, getting her utterly worked up.

“Lex.” Clarke whined. “Please. I love you.”

Lexa grinned into Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke was so good at manipulating her with those three words. Clarke practically had Lexa eating off the palm of her hand.

“I love you, too.” Lexa whispered in her ear as she slipped two fingers into Clarke, not at all surprised to find her already clenching and dripping wet. She set off at a slow pace, gently pumping, while she littered Clarke’s neck with harsh, sucking kisses that were sure to leave marks before the shower ended.

Clarke, between her bouts of whining and moaning in pure bliss, groaned “Trying to send a message, are you?”

“Hey. I don’t know what my competition looks like just yet. And you taste delicious.” Lexa defended with a wry smile, her left hand sliding down from Clarke’s breast to her clit, beginning to rub slow, torturous circles.

“You know I’d-Fuck. Baby, I-”

“I want you to close your eyes, and remember this during class today, when I’m not with you.” Lexa’s tone was that of her Commander persona, and it sent a pure thrill through Clarke’s already wound up body.  “Remember how I felt you…” Lexa trailed her hand from Clarke’s clit momentarily, in favor of going to squeeze Clarke’s breasts. “Remember how I rubbed you.” Lexa’s commands continued as her hands rubbed rapid, pressured circles against Clarke’s clit once more, eliciting a loud moan of Lexa’s name. “Remember how well I fuck you.” Lexa groaned, pumping her fingers with purpose, curling them against Clarke’s front wall. She could feel Clarke coming undone against her, heart racing, chest heaving, breaths short and labored, cries the only thing that left her lips.

“-and remember how much I love you.” Lexa whispered as she pulled away, ceasing everything, every little ministration.

Clarke’s eyes suddenly snapped open, the cobalt blue revealing the most insulted, offended look Lexa had ever seen on her girlfriend.

Clarke was unable to form words. She’d been so close. Just another word, or two...another pump, another curl, and she would’ve been home.

Lexa was turning, moving to step in front of Clarke.

Clarke wanted to open her mouth to shout at her to knock off the damn teasing, or to get out of the damn shower and let her finish in peace, but before she knew it- Lexa was kneeling on the shower floor before her, pressing kisses to her slick inner thigh.

“You know how much I love you?” Lexa asked, and Clarke couldn’t tell if it was rhetorical or not, between every suckling kiss she dropped to the creamy, pale skin of her thighs.

Clarke’s hands immediately tangled in Lexa’s hair, as she felt her knees buckle at the sight of Lexa, down on her knees, dripping wet, all abs and muscled glory, with such innocent eyes, gently eating away at her. Literally.

“Shh.” Lexa cooed, glancing up. She wrapped an arm around each thigh, effectively pressing her face to Clarke’s sex, and securing her all at once. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

Clarke didn’t know how to feel. Loving Lexa was a lot like that- it was more of an experience than it was an action. She always had this contradictory sort of amalgamation of feelings when it came to Lexa. For instance, she wanted to feel nothing but primal, predatory lust for the beauty on her knees before her- but that was one layer to Lexa’s intricate act. Her lips performed such sweet sin, but her eyes belied her loving gaze. Her groans were full of her own pleasure, but her attention was constantly on Clarke’s. Lexa could be so many things, for Clarke. She was cocky and arrogant, she was kind and gentle. She was bold and brash, and she was logical and reasonable. Clarke had never really felt a whirlwind of emotion for anyone else- but, as she suspected, that was likely because she’d never known anyone else quite like she did Lexa.

Lexa couldn’t really be categorized or written off, and that made her a sort of sublime art form.

And Clarke _adored_ art.

“That’s it, Clarke.” Lexa’s husky beckoning was all it took to stir Clarke from her inner ramblings. She was so in love with thinking about Lexa that she almost forgot to enjoy Lexa when she was right there in front of her.

Lexa was staring up at her with those sharp, intelligent eyes, lapping away at her, never breaking eye contact.

“You’re going to come for me.” Lexa demanded, though she only took that gamble because she felt Clarke tightening around the fingers she’d just slipped into her.

“Lexa…” Clarke groaned, tugging softly on her hair. “Fuck, baby, yes.”

Lexa smirked against her dripping folds. She loved to watch Clarke fall apart in such pure, unadulterated bliss. “You taste delicious.” She practically growled, the vibrations making Clarke’s entire body shake. She was right on the cusp.

Broad, flat licks turned into kisses, and kisses turned into sucking. Clarke was seeing stars before her orgasm even came.

“That’s it. Ride my face.” Lexa commanded, edging under Clarke ever so slightly. Lexa loved Clarke’s hips, infatuated with the desperate rocking motions she made, with no regard for how loud she’d become. Lexa adored the grinding motion, the art form that was Clarke’s body in sexual motion. It lit some sort of insatiable fire in her, with an all consuming task: please Clarke. “Come for me.”

“I’m...I’m…” Clarke never even managed the words.

Lexa’s teeth expertly grazed her clit, the bundle of nerves sending fireworks across her body and her vision as her knees weakened and she uttered out a sort of cry and scream all at once. Her body went numb with pleasure, and her hips jerked as Lexa’s lips were now in overly sensitive territory.

Clarke was still absently rocking into Lexa’s lips, eyes closed, body swaying. Lexa pressed a final kiss to her hipbone, right over her tattoo, before quickly rising to steady Clarke, who appeared to be struggling to catch her breath.

“Satisfactory?” Lexa smirked, her cocky smile laced with affection.

“Shut up.” Clarke scoffed playfully, pulling Lexa in for an appreciative kiss.

“Showmanship aside, I really do love you.” Lexa purred against her lips.

Clarke grinned, effectively ruining the kiss, but brightening Lexa’s world nonetheless. “I believe repayment is in order. C’mere.”

* * *

 

When Lexa stepped into the kitchen, her senses were assaulted by the smell of bacon and eggs, the table set for them to eat. She knew every morning wouldn’t be this lax, but she enjoyed this bout of domesticity with Clarke.

“Smells wonderful.” She announced as she slipped her arms around Clarke, resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder (a favorite perk of hers for being just a tad taller). She analyzed Clarke’s skilled hands flipping away as she tossed the bacon onto a plate.

“You,” Clarke began with a smirk, never looking back at Lexa. “-Are not wearing a shirt.”

Lexa glanced down at her bra and jeans, and let out a chuckle. “How could you tell?”

“Well, firstly, I know you. Secondly, I could feel your washboard abs- no complaints there. And lastly, you have gotten fratboy douche syndrome, lately. I’ll call it FDS for short.”

“Clarke, you got the scholarship for art, not med school, remember? You can stop pretending, you know.” Lexa quipped.

“Tell me that the next time you need someone to massage your sore muscles at night.” Clarke scoffed, turning to pop a piece of bacon in her mouth.

Lexa couldn’t help but smile at her girlfriend’s cuteness. “Okay, pray tell, what are the symptoms of FDS?”

Clarke pretended to look deep in thought as she guided Lexa, and their plates of food, to the kitchen table. “Well, I know you’re not in a fraternity...yet.”

Lexa opened her mouth to object.

“-and don’t tell me you’re a girl so it wouldn’t happen. I know the frats would make an exception.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “And now, you’ve been walking around half naked.”

Lexa scoffed. “What if I’m just being comfortable with my girl?”

Clarke blushed slightly at the words, never fully over that. “Oh, please. Lex, if you wanted to be comfortable, you’d wear sweats and no bra. Not tight jeans and a calvin klein bra set.”

Lexa shrugged, reaching for a plate of eggs. “I could stop, if you wanted.”

“-no.” Clarke answered, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Lexa grinned. She loved teasing Clarke in any way she could. She bit into her bacon, licking her lips as she watched Clarke, who was grinning right back at her, with no rhyme or reason.

“What?” Clarke finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Nothing.” Lexa waved her off. “I just suppose, if you think back to the first day of high school...things were starkly different.”

Clarke smiled softly, squeezing her thigh. “I wonder what kind of journey this year will be.”

* * *

 

The walk to the first lecture class was full of wonder and excitement, if one didn’t account for the faces of the almost-dead seniors who wanted no part in campus life anymore.

Still, Lexa was receiving her fair share of stares, her presence not nearly as prominent as it was back at Arkadia. Yet.

Lexa was wearing a typical crisp white collared shirt and tight black jeans that almost gave her a formal sort of look. When Clarke had questioned it, she’d replied “I have a meeting with the athletic director and the university president.”

Clarke didn’t even seem fazed.

She, on the the other hand, had opted for a simple tank top, flannel, and torn jeans.

The morning and later afternoons could be chilly, though, so Clarke opted for Lexa’s famed letterman jacket.

_Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely why she’d chosen a jacket with Lexa’s name plastered across the back._

Lexa smiled as soon as she saw Clarke wearing it, and hadn’t stopped since. The two of them walked through the main campus quad together, linking hands, taking in the sights and sounds of their supposed home for the next four years.

In rows, long stands were set up, students manning them. Some for orientation, some for clubs and extracurriculars. Clarke was gazing at them, with vested interest.

“You should join the choir,” Lexa murmured as they shouldered past a group of students. “That voice deserves to be showcased.”

“Oh no.” Clarke shook her head. “The last thing I want is to be in the spotlight like you.”

Lexa sighed. “Then maybe dating me wasn’t the best option.”

“Oh please.” Clarke squeezed her hand. “What’s the worst that can happen? You’re such a drama queen sometimes, baby.”

Lexa followed as Clarke tugged her along into the lecture hall building.

The room was already filling up with various students- the projector on with no input. Whispers echoed, bouncing off the high walls.

Lexa was making a beeline for the front, dead center, when Clarke tugged on her arm, shaking her head.

“Back.” Clarke whispered, jerking her head to the unoccupied back row.

“Oh? Little miss 4.0 wants to live on the edge, does she?” Lexa drawled in her ear as they ascended the stairs together.

“I want to be able to cuddle.” Clarke defended in a gentle whisper, tugging Lexa down beside her.

“Oh.” Lexa shut her mouth, extending her arm out instead as she gracefully lowered herself into one of the plush seats.

Clarke smiled, laying her head against Lexa’s chest, lifting the armrest between them. Lexa wrapped her left arm around Clarke, her right hand ready to take notes, if need be.

“I could get used to napping here.” Clarke murmured, lacing her fingers with Lexa’s left hand, settling right over her scar, likely subconsciously

“Yeah? Gonna leave me alone?” Lexa teased.

“You can ogle Professor Asher without me.” Clarke sniffed. “I’d be too jealous.”

Lexa shook with laughter, silent and adorable. Clarke grinned up at her. “What?”

Lexa couldn’t speak. She merely pointed ahead, laughing silently still.

Clarke squinted forward at the stage. An old man was standing there, shriveled and small, pushing his glasses up as he poked and prodded at the projector.

“He...hello?” He cleared his throat into the mic, deafening the entire lecture hall. “I’m Professor Asher, and this is Psych 1.”

“He’s a real hunk.” Lexa snorted, laughing uncontrollably as Clarke rolled her eyes and buried her face in Lexa’s neck, mostly just to hide her blush of embarrassment over the lost bet.

* * *

 

“...His voice will definitely be my go-to lullaby in the future. And your arms? Perfect place to nap.” Clarke smiled to herself, pleased.

“Happy to serve.” Lexa chuckled, admiring the way the sun illuminated Clarke’s hair, and the gentle breeze made it sway.

They had made their way to the upper athletic fields, where Lexa would spend the rest of her day with the team, and later the administration, while Clarke had classes across campus. She was insistent on walking Lexa on her first day, however.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.” Lexa drawled as she stopped before the field, turning to slip her arms around Clarke’s waist.

“What, you’re not even going to bring me to meet your team?” Clarke protested in faux anger. “Alexandria Woods, are you embarrassed of me?”

Lexa looked genuinely offended, leaning down to nip at Clarke’s lip playfully. “I haven’t even met them myself. But I would be proud to show you off, if it wouldn’t make you late to class.”

“Are you nervous?” Clarke asked, her voice softening to turn serious for a moment. She tucked a stray curl behind Lexa’s ear.

“Me? Nervous?” Lexa repeated the same words she had in high school, when Clarke had first come to see her game.

“Oh, right, what am I thinking?” Clarke smirked, cupping Lexa’s cheeks. “The commander doesn’t get nervous.”

Lexa kissed the palm of her hand in response.

“...But little gay mouse Lexa does.” Clarke finished. “Don’t think I don’t know you.”

Lexa laughed, leaning down to place a kiss on Clarke’s lips. “I will meet you outside of the art building when I’m finished today. And then we can skip the homework and marathon the new _corruption in capitol hill_ documentary.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Sounds like my kind of night.” She teased. She not-so-secretly lived for Lexa’s expressions when they watched something she was into.

“I will buy you dinner to compensate.” Lexa threw in with a wink.

“Oh? Like a date?” Clarke played along, batting her eyelashes.

Lexa smirked. “Yes. A dinner date to celebrate the first day of hell.”

Clarke grinned. “Can’t wait. I love you. Go knock ‘em dead.”

“I love you more.” Lexa nuzzled her nose softly before stealing one more kiss. “Go. I don’t want you to be late. Text me all about it- I’ll catch up with you during my breaks.”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 

Lexa hustled to get changed in the bustling women’s locker room, catching a couple of stares in her direction as she donned her practice jersey- confirming their suspicions that she was the famed new girl on the football team.

By the time she’d made it onto the field, she’d been stared down by the entirety of the football team- more than forty players in total. She knew, from day one, that she’d be competing for a first string position. But, from the looks of the players that were lined up before her, the Polis Panthers were no longer the ragtag team of the Pac-12 conference. They looked well oiled, from the practices Lexa had seen. They looked ready to dominate.

Lexa was surprised to see one of them actually step forward to shake her hand, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He flipped his brunette hair out of his eyes, sizing Lexa up. He was about a foot taller, but less intimidating than his teammates. Lexa recognized him instantly as Sterling, one of the better wide receivers the team had to offer.

“Hey.” He greeted, and Lexa could detect no malice in his tone. “You’re Lexa Woods.”

It wasn’t a question. He’d likely heard about Lexa from the coaches, from local news, from social media buzz, from her ever growing twitter, and from her family name and heiress status.

“You’re the wide receiver.” Lexa replied evenly, gripping his hand tightly.

“Yeah, not really a big enough fish for you to know my name, huh?” Sterling chuckled.

Lexa licked her lips. “Guess not, Sterling.”

Sterling grinned. “So she pays attention. Good, you’ll need that. Let me give you a rundown of the team. C’mon guys, do a lap. I can see coach on the horizon.”

The guys gave a few affirmative grunts before dispersing, setting off the track. Lexa moved to follow, put Sterling shook his head. “No, use this as an opportunity to hear the truth.”

Lexa quirked a brow. “Okay.” She drawled. “Shoot.”

“Okay, I’ll list ‘em in order. See that guy? That’s Connor, your tight end.”

Lexa gave him a look and the smirk fell off his face. “No! Not like that! Not _your_ tight end. _The_ tight end. Okay, I’ll move on.”  

And that kid? Fast one? That’s Artigas, your best running back. Big guy right there is your center, and that one-”

“You’re the captain?” Lexa interrupted, eyes surveying her teammates with scrutiny.

“Me?” Sterling balked. “What? No, god no. That’s that guy right there.”

Lexa glanced at the taller one in the group, built and muscled like the others, his face gruff and unkempt.

“That’s Ryder.”

“What does he play?”

“Quarterback.”

“...Oh. So he’s who I have to beat.”

* * *

 

“So glad you could make it.” The unmistakable snark of John Murphy warmed Clarke’s soul, oddly enough. Clarke took him in. Leather jacket, hair slicked back, typical frown on his face.

“Hi John.” Clarke grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek in greeting as she took a seat at the worktable beside him.

“Chipper smile and a cheek kiss? Someone got laid this morning.” Murphy snorted.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Don’t be jealous just because Emori’s going to a university like...an hour away.”

“She was supposed to go here. Until that other stupid university offered her a full ride.” Murphy grumbled.

“Oh, yeah, fuck them for giving her a free education.” Clarke nodded dramatically.

“So, art class part two, huh?” Murphy smirked.

“Yeah. I kind of can’t believe you’re taking this class. What are you planning on doing with it?”

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a man full of surprises. You’ll never know.”

Clarke smirked right back. “Maybe I won’t, but Lexa probably already knows. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you two taking a liking to each other.”

“Yeah?” Murphy drawled. “Where is the mighty commander, anyway? Hardly recognize you without her tongue down your throat.”

Clarke slapped his arm. “She’s at practice.”

“Still fighting the patriarchy and deciding to play on the men’s team? Good on her.” Murphy cocked a brow. “You two getting married anytime soon, or?”

“What, afraid you won’t get an invite?” Clarke fired back.

“Yeah.” Murphy smirked, fingers rubbing the edge of his sketchpad absently. “I’m going for best man. That is, of course, if you can survive college together. I hear that’s rough, when you’re dating the star quarterback.”

Clarke flipped him off, about to open her mouth, when someone spoke up from the front of the room.

He certainly didn’t look like a professor.

The guy was tall, broad shouldered, with a tan and muscles that sure made him seem like an athlete. His kind eyes, his warm smile, and his messy art smock told a different story, however.

“Hello everyone. I’m Ilan, and I’ll be your art TA. Professor Bennett injured herself, so I’ll be taking over until she returns. Don’t worry, I took this class last year, so I know what it’s like to be in your shoes.” He grinned.

Murphy smirked. “Bet you want him to dip his brush in your paints.” he whispered.

Clarke grimaced at the words, and then her mind drifted off to Lexa. Sex, paint and Lexa wasn’t an entirely awful idea. _Thanks, Murphy._

“Wow, already dreaming about it?” Murphy hissed in amusement.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to imagine Lexa as my canvas.”

Murphy gaped as if someone struck him across the face. “...Jesus, keep it in your pants, Griffin. This is a workplace.”

Clarke smiled mischievously in response.

“Alright, so today is an evaluation day. And before you freak out, no, it’s not for a grade. This is, however, not the beginner level fine art class, so if you’re struggling, I’d suggest moving down a level.”

“Sir, do you cover giraffe legs?” Murphy muttered under his breath, and Clarke’s heart clenched fondly at the high school memories.

“See this still life model I’ve set up here? I want you all to give me a sketch. That’s it. No requirements, just show me your style. I’ll be coming around to give feedback and meet all of you personally. Sound good?”

A few affirmative nods were all he got in response as he clapped his hands together, and the class set off to work.

* * *

 

Coach Davis had the team whipped into shape unlike Lexa had ever seen. He was nothing like Titus, who was all bark and no bite. He was an esteemed coach, holding several prior championship titles, with no time for fooling around, or shenanigans.

That included beating around the bush, and formalities, it seemed.

“Alright, listen up!” He’d called as he stormed the field, wearing a black shirt with the Polis logo in the corner, and a hefty clipboard in hand.

Just like a trained group of soldiers, the team was in line, hands folded behind their backs, straightened up. Lexa was impressed and slightly terrified all at once.

“Welcome back to another season.” Davis began. He was a tall, decently built man, the kind who always wore a cap to cover his brown hair. He looked fairly younger than Lexa expected, maybe forty at the most. “Congratulations- every single one of you has been handpicked for our competitive team. Some of you were drafted. Others are on specialized scholarships. Every single one of you has shown grit, to get this far. Does it mean you’ve earned a permanent spot on the team? Hello no. Farthest thing from it. You will need to work your asses off to show me that you belong on my first string of players. There are enough players here for nearly three replacements for every position. Now some of you may never see a second of game time. There is no guarantee that you’ll play. Show me why I need you out there. Is that understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, sir.” Echoed over the turf.

“Now, for those of you who don’t know me- I’m a pretty easy guy to understand. I like two things: hard work, and integrity. Is _that_ understood?”

Another answering chorus.

“And last time I checked, hard work, and integrity, are not gender specific. They are not specific to one sexual preference. They are not specific to body size, or social ability, or anything else. So let’s get one thing clear from the get-go. If I hear one ounce of disrespect toward our newest member-” he motioned to Lexa, “-from anyone, they’ll be out of here quicker than Trump’s toupee on a windy day. Any questions?”

Not a word.

“Alright, then. Start running your warm-up’s in your position groups. I’ll talk to Lexa here and join you in just a minute.”

They scattered as if their lives were on the line.

Lexa suppressed a whistle of amazement as she turned around, smiling at her coach, who was grinning at her.

“They do run fast when they’re threatened, huh?” He chuckled, his tense demeanor melted away.

Lexa nodded. “It seems so.”

“Hey, kid, how are you?” He clapped her on the back. “It’s good to see you finally geared up. Summer talks just aren’t the same.”

Lexa nodded her agreement. “I agree.”

“You meet everyone okay? Sterling show you around?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Everyone seems a bit cold, huh?” He questioned.

“...Not any more than I’d expect, being an outsider encroaching on their order.” Lexa admitted, voice seemingly convinced.

“Well, some of them are really excited to work with you. I know it may not seem like it, and that is, in part, my fault. They like to follow the lead of Ryder- that one over there, by the tackle dummy.”

“Why is that your fault, sir?”

“Because I gave him the position of leadership, team captain, when he clearly wasn’t ready for it. Now it’s a bit like lord of the flies.” He laughed, straightening his cap. “But it’s my hope that you’ll come in and turn things around.”

Lexa nodded slowly, trying not to look too proud. This was some of the highest praise she’d received.

“Now I have to be fair- you and Ryder are both good enough for the first quarterback position. It would be heresy for me to put a freshman over an upperclassmen unless you can put up the numbers to justify it. We have weeks before opening week. Can you handle that?”

Lexa nodded once more, feeling a bit like that was all she was capable of.

“Alright. Oh! And Lexa?” He paused.

Lexa turned around attentively.

“If these clowns ever give you any trouble, you tell me. About anything. We don’t haze here. And I have two daughters. If you ask me, there’s no such thing as “locker room talk”. Alright?”

Lexa smiled sparingly at him before turning to face her competition.

* * *

 

“Are you seriously texting?” Murphy snorted, working on sketching the particular edge of the bowl in front of the class for nearly half an hour.

“Are you seriously still working on that bowl?” Clarke fired back cockily, her drawing done long before.

“...Touche.” Murphy nodded with an eye roll.

Clarke glanced back down, smiling at her screen.

 

_You on lunch break yet baby?_

**Wifey 1:15 pm**

**_Just now._ **

_Let me guess, something with Kale?_

**_Make fun of me all you want. Kale is delicious._ **

_Save some room for dinner._

_We have a date, remember?_

**_How could I forget? How’s art?_ **

_Murphy is struggling and it’s pretty entertaining._

**_You’re just gifted. Take pity on the less fortunate._ **

_Yeah? Coming from the girl who’s probably_

_Dominating on the field rn, huh?_

**_….Perhaps ;)_ **

_I love you._

**_I love you more. I’ll meet you in the quad._ **

_I can’t wait <3 _

 

“Uh, Griffin?” Clarke was roused from her daydreaming of Lexa by a sharp elbow to her side.

“Ow, god Murphy, fu-” Clarke glanced up to notice the TA leaning on the desk in front of her, a look of amusement on his face. “-for crying out loud…” She covered, clearing her throat.

“Tried to warn ya.” Murphy chuckled.

“....Hi.” Clarke groaned, cheeks red.

“Don’t worry. I don’t really have a phone policy.” Ilan offered a smirk. “Let me see your work…” He searched for a name.

“Clarke.” Clarke supplied, regaining her footing.

“Clarke.” Ilan repeated with a nod as he brushed a thumb over over the paper, inspecting it for several beats without a word.

“You’ve been on your phone for a while. You must have finished this awhile ago.” Ilan commented, glancing up thoughtfully.

Clarke bit her lip. “...Um, yeah.”

Ilan, surprisingly, rather than reprimanding her for rushing, grinned. “This is amazing.” He lowered his voice a bit, realizing his words could’ve been offensive to the other students, who were struggling.

“...I just sketched what I saw.” Clarke smiled modestly at the praise.

“Well, I asked everyone to do the same, and I got some wild results. Even some...giraffe looking...things.”

Murphy snorted. “It haunts me.”

Ilan looked incredibly confused before shaking his head and continuing. “...Clarke, huh? I’ll keep my eye out for you. Really nicely done.”

Clarke blushed, watching him leave with a look of satisfaction and pride.

“Surprise surprise.” Murphy rolled his eyes. “Clarke at the top of the art class once more.”

* * *

 

Clarke had two more classes before she was free, in the afternoon. Classes she couldn’t text Lexa through because she knew her girlfriend was in important meetings.

It was math, to make matters worse. While Clarke had maintained perfect grades in high school, she still had her weak subjects, like anyone else. She’d hated all of it. Algebra, Geometry, pre-calc.

She couldn’t understand why general ed requirements involved statistics. Oh, the numbers. So many numbers.

She would definitely need Lexa’s help, seeing as Lexa was particularly better with all that expensive one on one tutoring and private school education she’d had, up until Arkadia.

Thoughts filled her head as she leaned against the bench she was sitting on in the quad, waiting for Lexa. Clarke closed her eyes, soaking up the golden warmth of the sun, listening to the various voices around her, when she felt lips press against her forehead.

“Mmmm.” Clarke hummed, without opening her eyes, she cupped the face that was bent over her, pulling her down for a kiss.

She felt Lexa steady herself against the bench, kissing Clarke with such tenderness and yet, a layer of excitement underneath. She’d missed her.

Clarke cracked an eye open and grinned when she saw Lexa was in full uniform still.

“Oh my god, is that your game jersey?” Clarke blinked, running her hands down the front, feeling the material. It wasn’t the green she was used to seeing Lexa play in. It was black, and rather than white trimming- it was red.

“Don’t like it?” Lexa frowned.

“Are you kidding?” Clarke stood, hoisting herself up, gripping the edge of Lexa’s jersey. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. God, you fill out any jersey nicely, but that color scheme? Badass.”

Lexa chuckled softly, and Clarke’s heart strings tugged with the melodic noise. “Thank you.” She nuzzled Clarke’s neck, dropping a quick kiss there.

“So, are you team captain yet? Do I have to fight anyone?” Clarke prodded, lacing her fingers with Lexa’s as they joined hands for their walk home.

“...Not yet. Coach wants a fair trial period. My main competition is Ryder, their senior quarterback. He’s...better than I expected.”

“Yeah?” Clarke didn’t seem worried. “I’m sure you’re going to pull ahead of him. You’re kind of irresistible.”

Lexa smirked. “You’re biased.”

“I am? How?” Clarke pouted.

“You’re in love with me.” The words still gave Lexa chills, and an indescribable feeling of joy in the pit of her stomach.

“I _am_.” Clarke smiled, bringing Lexa’s hand up to her lips, kissing it. “But, I also know you, and how amazing you are. Trust me when I tell you that you will lead this team to the top.”

Lexa paused, causing Clarke to stop as well. She took a deep breath, the leaves falling around them, marking the change of autumn, the coming of winter and the hardships ahead. She couldn’t have wished for a better person to spend it with.

“Lex?” Clarke paused. “You okay, baby?”

Lexa’s arms tugged at Clarke’s waist, and she pulled Clarke forward, leaning down to bury her face in the crook of Clarke’s neck, feeling suddenly small and vulnerable.

“Thank you.” It was all Lexa said, and yet, Clarke understood all of the hundreds of sentiments Lexa was trying to convey, and the intensity of them all.

“Yeah.” Clarke whispered, stroking her hair. “Of course. You must be exhausted.”

Lexa nodded slightly, smiling as she kissed Clarke’s neck. “Not too tired for date night.”

Clarke let out a hearty laugh. “Okay then. Why don’t we get home so you can shower and I can see about some delivery?”

* * *

 

Lexa stepped out of the bedroom, freshly showered and clad in sweats and and a loose hoodie, hair tied up in a messy bun, glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. She loved how comfortable she could be with Clarke. She’d never had that sort of lowered guard with Costia, or prior girlfriends. Of course, there was no comparison.

“You out, airbud?” Clarke called from the living room.

“Yes.” Lexa chuckled, moving over to her, taking in the scent of their favorite Chinese restaurant, a recommendation from the campus living guide. “This looks delicious.”

Clarke smiled up at her, on her knees setting up the boxes and plastic utensils. “I love when you eat real people food.”

“As opposed to what? Imaginary food? Cat food?” Lexa snarked.

“Quinoa is a crime against nature, it might as well be.” Clarke defended, tugging Lexa down beside her. “Sit. I’m lonely.”

“Can’t have that.” Lexa murmured, wrapping an arm around Clarke, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  “...Thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Clarke quirked a brow. “What for?”

“I promised something a little more romantic.” Lexa sighed. “I didn’t expect to be this tired.”

Clarke frowned. “Lex, I knew this new schedule wasn’t going to a breeze for you, babe. I’m here to support you, not be another burden on your shoulders to worry about.”

“Clarke Abigail Griffin, you are the furthest thing from a burden to me.” Lexa declared boldly. “You’re everything to me.”

Clarke blushed, biting her lip. “This is romantic enough for me.”

Lexa laughed. “Yeah? How so?”

“Well...good food…” She motioned to the takeout. “Nice drinks…” She motioned to the sodas lined up for choosing on the table, laughing when Lexa rolled her eyes. “And I get to snuggle up to these while we watch a movie later.” Clarke smirked, slipping a hand under Lexa’s hoodie to graze her abs appreciatively. “Damn I love those.”

Lexa smiled, blushing a rosy tint. “They’re yours.”

“Wow. See? Romantic, without even trying.” Clarke smiled, handing Lexa a pair of chopsticks. “Your beef and broccoli. Ugh, even with takeout- you manage to make it healthy.”

Lexa tossed a piece into her mouth, licking her lips before replying, “I need to stay strong to fight anyone after your affections.”

“God, you’re cute.” Clarke smiled affectionately, tucking a stray curl behind Lexa’s ear.

Lexa gave her a childish, cheeky smile, closing her eyes in bliss when Clarke caressed her cheek.

“...So, anyone after your affections?” Lexa drawled teasingly.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I saw six girls staring at your ass on the way home.”

Lexa gaped. “Was there something on it?!” She teased.

“Shut up, ass.” Clarke laughed, flicking a grain of rice at her.

“Hey!” Lexa picked it up, dropping it into the trash bag with an eye roll.

“My art TA is hot.” Clarke offered. “His name is Ilan and he called my work amazing.”

Lexa snorted. “Oh good, he has eyes.”

Clarke blushed at Lexa’s compliment. “Murphy was struggling, a little. I think he misses Emori.”

Lexa nodded. “Could you imagine being apart? Even an hour’s drive. It would kill me.”

Clarke nodded her silent agreement, setting her dish aside. “So, what movie will it be? I have a selection of one dollar picks from two years ago or older.”

Lexa smirked, setting her food aside as well, finishing the last bite. “Clarke. Are you aware that my family is....exceptionally wealthy? We could watch releases that aren’t even publicly out.”

Clarke scoffed. “Soon you’re going to be working at your parents’ office out here. And then we’ll have to start counting dimes. Better get used to the poor college life, babe.”

“Fair enough.” Lexa acquiesced. “What were you thinking?”

“Interstellar?” Clarke tried. “I never saw it.”

“I saw that with Aden. It’s a little heavy for a date night flick.” Lexa warned, watching Clarke sit back on the couch behind them.

“Good. We can make out if I lose interest.” Clarke replied.

“Can I lay down?” Lexa asked softly, as Clarke set the movie up.

Clarke glanced up. “Of course, baby. Come here.” She murmured, guiding Lexa’s head to rest in her lap. She smiled down at Lexa, running her hands through her hair, gently undoing her bun. She took a moment to study the face she’d so effortlessly fallen in love with. The high cheekbones, the sharp jaw line, the pillowy lips, the forest green gaze. Even in her most relaxed state, Lexa was absolutely stunning, to Clarke.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Clarke confessed softly, ignoring the opening notes of the music, then the voices of people talking.

Lexa blushed heavily, feeling Clarke’s hands cup her cheeks. She rested her own hands over Clarke’s. She couldn’t form words, not with the love that was threatening to explode in her chest.

“I love you.” Lexa whispered, almost so softly that Clarke couldn’t hear. Almost.

“I love you, too.” Clarke leaned down to press a kiss to Lexa’s lips. “More than anything.”

Lexa felt numb, drunk off the love she felt. She snuggled into Clarke’s lap, closing her eyes as she felt Clarke gently stroke her arm. She’d never felt so loved, so safe, so at home.

It was a moment she’d need to remember, in the coming months. Hardships were bound to present themselves, a given with Lexa and Clarke’s workload.

But this love, divine as it was- it was extraordinary.

It would transcend whatever obstacles this world had to offer.

* * *

 

Two weeks into the semester, once classes had gone smoothly and the transition was nearly complete, Lexa made the call to her parents.

Clarke, working on her homework, listened to their skype call from where Lexa sat at the dining table, facing her parents on the screen of her laptop with an attentive look, nodding her head at every other word.

“And talk to Sinclair, when you get there. He’ll get you sorted.” Alexander reminded.

“I will.” Lexa nodded.

“Okay, I think that sums it all up, you’ll be perfect for the job, Alexandria.” Ana commented gently. “How’s Clarke?”

Lexa glanced up to look at Clarke, who blew her a dramatic kiss from where she was sitting.

“She’s well.” Lexa chuckled. “We’re pretty busy with work, but enjoying ourselves.”

“Save some domesticity for the marriage.” Alexander  chuckled, causing Lexa to blush. “Anyway, Aden is chewing our heads off.”

“Okay, put him on.” Lexa laughed.

Aden practically shoved his parents aside, flashing Lexa a bright smile when he saw her. “Hey Lex!”

“Hey Aden.” Lexa smiled fondly. Before she could continue, however, she was cut off by a very important question.

“Where’s Clarke?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Happy to see you too, bro.”

“Clarke?” Aden called, and Clarke chuckled, rising from her seat to come behind Lexa and wrap her arms around Lexa’s neck and chest, pecking Lexa’s cheek before glancing up to greet Aden.

“Hey Clarke.” Aden smiled with satisfaction, glancing at his handiwork. “How’s college? Did Lex break yet?”

Clarke laughed gently. “Not yet. We’re good. How’s Arkadia And Atom?”

Lexa growled.

“...Not Atom.” Clarke quickly recovered, noticing Aden’s blush.

“Everything is good. Boring, but good. Mom and Dad are cool, Lex. They took me camping.”

Lexa smiled. “Oh? They didn’t hire anyone to set up the tent for them?”

Aden smirked. “Nope. You jealous?” He teased.

Lexa thought back to what she was doing that week. _Clarke. Panting on the bed, whining and moaning and writhing beneath her as Lexa devoured her body._

“...No I think I’m good.” Lexa coughed awkwardly. She turned, pulling Clarke into her lap, trying not to smile at Clarke’s little squeal of surprise.

“So, you want to start working at Woods Tech?” Aden questioned, leaning forward. Lexa could see how much he’d grown in the short time since she’d left. A few months did wonders in adolescent progress.

“Considering it might be my job someday, yes.” Lexa sighed, feeling Clarke squeeze her hand under the table. Clarke felt so much sympathy for Lexa, the girl was being stretched beyond her means, as usual.

“What, no NFL?” Aden whined. “I really wanted to impress people with benchside seats.”

Lexa smirked. “You could just ask mom and dad to buy you those.”

Aden grinned. “I know. I’m just kidding. I want you to be happy, sis. Is that what you want?”

Lexa sighed. “I...don’t really know. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Clarke cocked a brow. “Wouldn’t it be easier to work for your parents over the summer?”

Lexa’s jaw set in her typical determined fashion. “Yes. But there’s a management position open, now. If I can prove myself, mom and dad might be inclined to give it to me.”

“Management?” Clarke groaned. “Babe. You’re only-”

“Young, I know.” Lexa cut her off. “Clarke. This could finally be my chance to show them that...I’m worth something-”

“Alexandria Anastasia Woods…” Clarke nearly growled. “Don’t talk like that, you don’t owe them-”

“-Ahem.” Aden cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think I should go.”

“I’m sorry.” Lexa sighed apologetically. “I’ll call you on monday night?”

“Okay. I’ll text you. I love you. Bye, Lexa. Bye, Clarke.” He waved as the screen closed the window away.

Clarke turned to glare at Lexa.

Lexa grimaced. “Okay, so maybe I worded it wrong, but-”

Just then, there was a knock at the apartment door. Lexa bristled, glancing up in surprise. “We’re not expecting anyone.” She murmured cautiously.

Clarke smirked, leaning forward to kiss Lexa’s temple soothingly, trying not to think of how much Lexa looked like a startled cat when she was alert like that. “I am.”

“Clarke?” Lexa questioned, glancing down at her jeans and shirt. She would’ve dressed nicely if it was another administrator or parent.  

“I know you miss your kru. So….I yanked one over.” Clarke grinned, throwing the door open, revealing Lincoln, grinning as brightly.

“Linc.” Lexa breathed, rising with a megawatt smile.

“...And of course, my playmate.” Clarke smiled, throwing her arms around Octavia.

“Hey, Griff.” Octavia enthused, shoving the housewarming flower gift into Lincoln’s arms as she wrapped Clarke in a bear hug.

Lexa took the flowers, greeting Lincoln with a hug. “This is….such a surprise, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled sheepishly. “I wanted you to relax for the night. With Lincoln here, you have to pay attention to him, and not your stupid plans to take over the world from your parent’s company.”

Lexa chuckled, leaning in to hug Octavia as well.

“Guys, check out our living room.” Clarke called, ushering them away. She turned when Lexa caught her wrist.

“Clarke.” Lexa smiled, leaning in to kiss her. “Thank you.” She murmured, pulling apart slightly, just enough to breathe.

Clarke smiled, cupping Lexa’s cheeks. “Anything for you.”

Lexa savored the moment, following Clarke over to the living room, where she began the tour of their relatively small apartment.

* * *

 

While Octavia and Clarke took to gossiping inside, Lincoln and Lexa took the chairs on the balcony, gently tossing a football to each other as they sat, as they always used to when they had heart-to-hearts growing up.

“How are things?” Lexa murmured as she caught the ball, eyes studying the pigskin with a thoughtful gaze.

“Busy.” Lincoln admitted. “I’m playing just like you- busting my ass to make the first string. That and homework? I barely sleep.”

Lexa nodded slowly, realizing she wasn’t entirely alone. “And what about Octavia?”

“What about her?”

“Doesn’t she mind? You not being able to dote on her as much as you used to.” Lexa murmured.

“Of course.” Lincoln nodded, shocking Lexa. He noticed her raised brow. “What?” He chuckled. “You thought I’d say she understands? That she doesn’t mind, for the good of my career?”

“Well, yeah.” Lexa replied, running a hand through her hair.

“That’s not realistic, Lex.” Lincoln rubbed his chin, where he had hints of stubble, Lexa noticed. “Sure, she might say those things. But I know Octavia like she’s the better, lighter half of my soul. And I can see what it’s doing to our relationship. And what it will do, if I don’t keep it in check.”

Lexa looked mortified. That certainly wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“So...what do you do?” Lexa whispered.

Lincoln sighed. “I work twice as hard as I used to. I have to show her that I care, that I’m still committed as I was when I wasn’t so occupied. All my weekends? Octavia time. I make sure that, no matter how overloaded I am, she knows she has an unconditional time slot in my schedule, you know? I can’t just expect her to accept this.”

Lexa nodded, her white knuckle grip on the ball beginning to hurt. “I can do that.” She whispered, mostly to herself.

“Can you?” Lincoln prodded softly. “Lexa, I heard the girls talking about you taking the job at your parents’ branch out here. That’s too much. You can’t be considering-”

“I’m not _considering_ it.” Lexa gritted. “I’m _doing_ it.”

Lincoln sighed, shaking his head. “This is a mistake.”

“And what choice do I have, Lincoln?” Lexa spoke surprisingly monotonously. “My coach expects. My fans expect. My parents expect. Clarke expects. I can’t win one by just letting another collapse. I’m the Commander, right? I should be pushing my limits.”

Lincoln caught the ball that was flicked at him, eyeing the stitching. “Right, yeah. Until you burst.”

* * *

 

“So.” Octavia leaned back on the couch, Clarke leaning against her as they shared a bowl of popcorn, gossiping under the guise of watching a movie. “Sex life?”

“ _Hi, Octavia. I’m well, how are you? How’s school? Great?! No kidding. Me too_.” Clarke mocked.

Octavia smirked. “We can talk about that later. First, answer my questions.”

“The sex is still fantastic.” Clarke grinned mischievously. “If you must know.”

“Yeah, must be, without fear of pregnancy.” Octavia snorted. “You two still going at it like rabbits?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Not since Lexa signed up for a job, and football, and classes, and extracurriculars.”

Octavia winced. “...That’s harsh. I mean, Linc plays, but he makes Saturday date night.” She sighed dreamily.

Clarke sighed a little less dreamily. “Lexa fell asleep on our last date night.”

Octavia raised a brow. “...Really?”

Clarke grimaced in response.

“...And now she wants to add a job on top of that?” Octavia looked perplexed. “Clarke, are you sure she still wants a relationship?”

“Yes. Shut up.” Clarke whacked her arm lightly. “Poor baby is so ambitious. I just hope she doesn’t burn out, O.”

Octavia sighed. “Clarke...Not to pull a Raven here, but...I hope _you_ don’t burn out. It’s one thing being the one doing all of this, but what about you?”

“What about me?” Clarke sighed.

“...Is this what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“How can you say that?”

“I want Lexa.”

* * *

 

“So, Octavia and Linc are thinking about transferring here at the first semester break.” Clarke murmured, watching Lexa steer the wheel with precision, as they made the scenic drive to Lexa’s parents’ corporate office, the day after their visit.

“Really?” Lexa blinked. “Lincoln hadn’t said anything.”

Clarke frowned. “Well, you two did look really preoccupied with something out there. Is everything alright between you two?”

Lexa nodded reassuringly. “Of course. We weren’t fighting. Just...lifestyle disagreements.”

Clarke looked surprised. “You too?”

Lexa cocked a brow. “...Maybe the move changed them?” She suggested.

Clarke nodded, trying not think the inevitable. _Or maybe it’s just us._

“Clarke.” Lexa sighed, as she parked the car. She turned to cup Clarke’s cheeks with her hand, leaning over in her seat. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I never want you to feel as if we’ve lost that best friend aspect of our relationship.”

Clarke smiled, her heart jump starting at Lexa’s words. Suddenly, the idea of putting a damper on her plans, her ambitions….it seemed wrong.

“Of course, baby.” Clarke kissed the hand closest to her cheek. “...I love you.”

Lexa grinned. “I love you, Clarke.”

Clarke smirked. “I can’t wait to see your office. My big bad executive.”

Lexa chuckled, leaning back in her seat. “And what if my sole purpose here is to fetch coffee?”

Clarke shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ll look very sexy doing it, then.”

Lexa blushed, and Clarke felt a high just from witnessing it.

“Will you give me a tour, Ms. Woods?” Clarke batted her eyelashes.

Lexa smirked, raising Clarke’s hand to press it to her lips. “It would be my honor, Ms. Griffin…-Woods.” She added at the end with a wink, causing Clarke to momentarily forget how to breathe.

* * *

 

Clarke, perhaps, had underestimated the word “rich”. Especially when that word was applied to her girlfriend. She’d seen Indra’s house, and gotten a glimpse of what kind of affluent blood ran through the veins of Lexa’s family.

But the office building she’d just stepped into? Phenomenal. In every sense of the word. Great glass ceilings, bordering a picturesque city view. The main floor was bustling with employees jumping from cubicle to cubicle, the main offices lined up towards the back, with impressive plaques bearing important sounding names.

Lexa, however, strode in like owned the place, and got a smile from just about everyone in the building, from the custodial staff to the interns (who made no secret of checking her out, to Clarke’s displeasure), and the chief financial officer of the branch.

They’d spoken, for a while, after the man had introduced himself as Sinclair, and Clarke opted to wander around the floor. She’d been at it for almost half an hour, when she’d mistook a copy room for a restroom, and pushed the door open, causing its occupant to whip around from the whirring machine, spitting out paper like Lexa’s parents produced money.

“Oh.” Clarke blushed when she took in the lady with the red dress, raven colored hair pulled back past her shoulders, her lips painted a shade of red as well. Her smile was...off, somehow. As if it couldn’t quite reach her eyes, couldn’t be made genuine enough. “I’m sorry.” She apologized rather awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to…”

“That’s quite alright.” The woman’s voice was smooth, cold, unfeeling. It almost gave Clarke chills.  “You must be Alexandria’s friend.”

Clarke blinked. Well, that was technically true. Still, she wasn’t sure how the mysterious woman even knew that much.

As if on cue, the woman continued, “-I was informed you’d be coming, today.”

Clarke froze, opening her mouth to speak, when she felt an arm slide around her waist. Her body jerked involuntarily, before she realized it was Lexa’s arm around her, and a warm feeling of safety settled in Clarke’s stomach.

“There you are.” Lexa murmured affectionately. “I was worried, for a moment.”

“Alexandria.” The woman spoke up, and Lexa’s forest green gaze settled on her with an exacting glance. Clarke noticed Lexa had about an inch on her, if the woman hadn’t been wearing heels so tall. Lexa’s intimidating gaze, physique, the way her arm wrapped tighter around Clarke when there was any sort of palpable discomfort- it made Clarke feel entirely safe and sound. It was, admittedly, part of why she fell so easily for Lexa in the tumultuous times of high school.

“You’re Alie.” Lexa spoke, and it wasn’t a question.

“I am.” She smiled formally. “I worked for your parents as a personal assistant for nearly two years.”

“So I’ve heard.” Lexa nodded, forcing a smile.

Clarke watched the exchange, trying to peg Lexa’s feelings. She didn’t seem to pleased.

“I hear you’re looking to intern, here.” Alie noted, lacing her hands together politely, resting them against her abdomen.

“Not quite.” Lexa replied with a tinge of malice in her tone. “Interns wouldn’t ever be considered for managerial positions, would they?”

“I didn’t know we gave those to teens, either.” Alie added icily. “I suppose being an heiress helps.”

Lexa twitched, and Clarke knew she was restraining herself. She stepped in, delicately.

“It would help, normally, but Lexa is more than qualified.” Clarke interjected.

“Oh? I thought she had no work experience, coming straight from high school?” Alie asked innocently.

Clarke grit her teeth. This bitch wasn’t making this any easier. “She had formal tutoring for all subjects, as well as business, for years, from the best private institutions. She won the state football championship, as the captain of the team. She graduated best in our class.”

Alie nodded, looking dreadfully unimpressed. “That’s wonderful, Alexandria. I’m sure you will fit right into the running.”

Lexa took a breath, then paused, hearing the last word. “The running?” She repeated.

“...Yes.” Alie nodded. “This position is highly coveted. Some candidates are, perhaps, more experienced than others. Nevertheless, performance speaks for itself, as I’m sure Sinclair will agree with. Now, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I have purchase orders to submit.” Alie shot them a smirk and scooted past them with a little flare of arrogance in her step.

“....If you’re going to blow up, maybe the car is the safer option.” Clarke uttered quickly, dragging Lexa’s hand as she watched the venom in her gaze.

Clarke wasn’t entirely sure how Lexa survived the elevator ride down, filled to the brim with employees leaving for the day, but she remained silent the entire time.

However, that was a lost cause, as soon as Lexa shut her car door, and then leaned back into her seat, rubbing her temples.

“...Lex?” Clarke murmured, ready for the outburst.

“....Have I ever mentioned how much I hate my parents?” Lexa growled.

Clarke winced. “Oh, baby, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Lexa-”

“Why wouldn’t they tell me that I was in some sort of...stupid race for that position? What a waste of my time!”

Clarke sighed. “You thought they’d just...hand it to you?”

Lexa froze, and it occurred to Clarke that Lexa was so used to that happening, that maybe it hadn’t occurred to her that she needed to work for the job. “....Fantastic.” She muttered. “Another responsibility to add to my shoulders. Now I know how Atlas feels.”

Clarke glanced at her sympathetically. “Lex.” She sighed.

She knew what had to be done, at such a dire time like this.

Lexa glanced up at her. “Yes?” She whispered.

“Can you drive to that nice park, with the view?” Clarke asked gently. “It’s really beautiful...I want to take some photos so I can use it as a reference.”

Lexa, her beautiful, selfless Lexa, nodded, even though her eyes looked tired and her soul seemed heavy.

“Of course.” She whispered.

“Thanks.” Clarke murmured, leaning back in her seat. She looked out the window at the setting sun, enjoying the way it set the Earth ablaze as it descended over the mountainous, rocky road Lexa had set off on.

In a way, it reminded Clarke of the date where Lexa had snuck her out in Lincoln’s truck, to watch the stars on the top of that mountain back in Arkadia. Lexa had told her that she loved her, that night.

“Lexa?” Clarke laced their fingers, from Lexa’s hand resting on the stick shift.

Lexa, still not finished with being angry, huffed a response.

Clarke pressed a soft kiss to her hand. “Do you remember the time you snuck me out, when I was grounded?”

A second passed. A second that felt like an hour, as Clarke contemplated whether she’d done the right thing in asking.

And then a smirk pulled at the corner of Lexa’s lips, and her angry expression faded. She squeezed Clarke’s hand in hers. “Like it was yesterday.”

Clarke couldn’t help the way her heart flooded with love, she couldn’t help the grin on her features, either.

“You caught me, I almost fell off that tree. I was terrified.”

Lexa laughed, turning the wheel smoothly, her mind racing with the intense memories. “I remember. I will always catch you, Clarke.”

Clarke’s heart fluttered. “You have me, Lex. Just don’t let me go.” She murmured as Lexa pulled her car to a stop at the top of the road, luckily abandoned, due to it being a weeknight.

Lexa paused, as if the very words had the power to make her heart stop. They didn’t. The insinuation behind them, the fact that Clarke would think such thoughts- that did.

“I…” Lexa fumbled for words. “I...I won’t, Clarke…” Her eyes looked glassy with tears.

Clarke gave her a smile, unbuckling her seatbelt. She jerked her head out towards the view. “C’mon.” She murmured, leaving her phone on the dashboard.

“...Don’t you need that to take pictures?” Lexa asked softly, trying not to let her tears fall.

“...About that.” Clarke smiled shyly and waved Lexa over, shutting the car door as she stepped out. She moved to sit on the hood of Lexa’s car, delicate in her movements. She turned to face the paling sky, the sun saying its farewell in the language of color, with pinks and oranges lighting the sky, dimming rapidly.

Lexa came to sit beside her. Quietly, wordlessly, she slipped off her jacket, draping it around Clarke’s shoulders, just like she always had. It was the sort of reassurance that spoke multitudes without ever requiring the utterance of a single word.

Clarke pressed a kiss to her cheek, murmuring, “Thank you.”

Lexa smiled softly and wrapped her arms around Clarke, as they gazed on ahead at the mountainous expanse before them, a symbol of their new home, of their relationship-with it’s many peaks and relatively passable valleys.

“You told me you loved me.” Clarke reminded, breaking the relative silence. “That night, remember?”

“Of course.” Lexa nodded, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s temple.

“You and I made each other a promise, then.” Clarke spoke gently, the breeze almost liable to carry her voice away. “Tonight feels a lot like that night. I mean, maybe you’re not sneaking me out, but...I’m making you a promise.”

Lexa nodded, urging her to continue, eager to reciprocate Clarke’s love in whatever form it was offered to her.

“Alexandria Anastasia Woods, I promise that...whatever happens this year, or...however long this stress is going to last...you and I are going to be okay.” Clarke murmured, turning just in time to catch a weary tear slip from Lexa’s high cheekbone. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Lexa smiled, shaking her head, as if to indicate she was crying happily.

Nonetheless, Clarke kissed away her tears, leaning back to cup her cheeks.

“I’ll make it work, Clarke. All of it.” Lexa murmured, leaning into Clarke’s touch.

“I know.” Clarke smiled, leaning forward to meet Lexa’s soft, pouting lips in the most delicate kiss, akin to a flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

“Now, you know I didn’t bring you here to take pictures.” Clarke whispered, pushing Lexa down against the hood of the car, softly but with a certain assertive air about her.

“What did you bring me here for, then?” Lexa teased wryly, her voice husky with emotion, her arms wrapping tightly around Clarke, who positioned herself on top of Lexa, nipping softly at her lips.

“Alexandria, make love to me.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two, things are starting to develop a bit here! Enjoy :)

 

_ A month into the school year.  _

Lexa was quiet, careful not to disturb the careful rise and fall of Clarke’s chest by waking her up this early, knowing full well the blonde wanted nothing to do with her morning hike. As much as Lexa enjoyed staying in bed and cuddling, she knew she had to be in peak physical condition for the coming season, particularly if she wanted a chance at beating Ryder. The month of September would be bustling and unkind. Classes, work, training, the opening game, and most importantly- Clarke’s birthday. 

But the last part was a secret, for now. 

As Lexa moved toward the edge of the bed, aware of how bare she was without any clothing, covered in hickeys, she smirked at the events of the evening prior. 

And then she felt two familiar arms pull her right back down, ruining all of her covert efforts. 

“Tryna sneak away after our night together?” Clarke mumbled sleepily, eyes slitted at Lexa, a wry smirk on her lips. “Walk of shame?” 

Lexa grinned at the implication, leaning back down to wrap her arms around Clarke, savoring the feel of Clarke’s warmth. She hugged Clarke tightly, pressing a kiss to her golden crown of hair, smiling faintly at the scent of her conditioner. “I doubt anyone would leave after a night with you.” She quipped. 

“Right, because my sexual prowess in unmatched.” Clarke grumbled, latching onto her girlfriend like a koala, unwilling to let go. 

“I’d say you’re a fast learner.” Lexa replied coolly, gently rubbing Clarke’s side. “I’m sorry to have woken you up. I was just leaving for a quick jog and hike.” 

Clarke groaned. “The one downside to dating an olympian goddess.” She felt up Lexa’s rock hard abs to make her point. “She loves the thrill of exercise more than she loves me.” 

Lexa snorted. “Not likely.” 

Clarke smirked. “Don’t think I can’t read your mind, Woods. You dream for a more athletic girlfriend every second of every day.” 

Lexa frowned. “No, I don’t.” 

“Really? A Running companion isn’t attractive to you?” Clarke drawled. 

“More like a distraction. Besides, there are very few people who can keep up with me.” Lexa replied teasingly. 

“Oh, man. I was going to suggest joining you, but…” She shook her head. 

Lexa smiled softly. “I’d love to have your company.” 

“Even if you have to slow down for me?” 

“Clarke, you’re my girlfriend, there’s a difference. I’d walk hand in hand and take a leisurely stroll, if that’s what you wanted.” 

“Damn. I hate how smooth you are.” Clarke groaned. “How am I supposed to say no to that?” 

“You’re not?” Lexa tried cutely, and Clarke couldn’t resist. 

“Fine, but don’t laugh at my speed. Raven and Octavia always did during gym class, back at Arkadia.” Clarke grumbled. 

“Raven and Octavia aren’t  _ madly in love with you _ ….I hope.” 

* * *

“Lexa, I feel death.”

“You’re doing amazing.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I wish you’d never walked into Niylah’s.” 

“I’m so glad I did.” 

“I wish you’d never asked me out.” 

Lexa grinned, pinching Clarke’s butt, enjoying her view from behind (mainly there to give Clarke a helpful, boosting push every now and again). “A few more steps, Clarke.” 

Clarke wheezed in response. “You do this every day? While I’m sleeping?” 

“Oh, no.” Lexa shook her head. Before Clarke could respond, she added, “I do the next three trails as well. Sometimes with weights.” 

Clarke stopped, and Lexa slipped an arm around her waist, walking beside her, as they stopped at the peak of the trail, atop the mountain. The view was magnificent. The haze of fog was just barely beginning to break, illuminated to a golden orange by the sun, hidden behind. The trees, the grass, the wildflowers all swayed in harmony with the cool breeze. 

Clarke had to admit, it was beautiful. 

“Do you like it?” Lexa asked gently, sitting down, tugging Clarke onto her lap. 

“It’s…” Clarke was breathless, and not just because of the incline. “It’s breathtaking.” 

“It helps me clear my head.” Lexa replied. “But it gets lonely pretty quickly up here. This could be our new flower field.” She suggested lightly. 

“It could be...if I survive the climb every time.” Clarke replied mirthfully. 

“I would just carry you.” Lexa quipped, wrapping her arms tightly around Clarke, and resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder. 

“You think we’re going to need another flower field?” Clarke sighed. 

“I didn’t necessarily view it as a bad thing.” Lexa admitted. “It was cathartic.” 

“Yeah, I really loved it there.” Clarke replied whimsically. “I remember the first time I found you there. You ditched class, and you weren’t answering my texts. We weren’t dating, but Lexa, I was terrified for you.” 

Lexa gave her a little squeeze, humming in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry.” She murmured. 

Clarke shook her head. “No, don’t be. I found you, and-” 

“You told me that I wasn’t alone.” Lexa replied sharply. “I remember you held me, even though we hardly knew each other.” 

“But we did.” Clarke insisted. “You were my missing half.” 

Lexa smiled at the thought, kissing the dip between Clarke’s neck and shoulder. “Do you wonder what the next four years are going to be like?” She asked gently. 

“Of course. I wonder what the rest of our lives are going to be like.” Clarke replied, feeling Lexa’s hands ghost over her stomach, wordlessly asking a question that required no answer, save for Clarke leaning back further into her embrace as a confirmation. 

“We should leave soon.” Lexa sighed. “Classes will start, and we need time to shower.” 

Clarke nodded, though she gently pushed Lexa back, so that she was fully laying on top of her, Lexa’s hands threading in her hair. 

“You’re right. But just a few more minutes alone, together.” 

* * *

Lexa leaned against the wall outside of the art building, Clarke pinned comfortably between her arms, Lexa already in her full uniform, drawing looks from every single passerby, it seemed.

“I almost missed dating the center of attention.” Clarke quipped playfully, arms lacing around Lexa’s neck. 

“Not yet, but I will be.” Lexa replied, determined.

“And I was  _ just _ getting comfortable with the idea of PDA.” Clarke tutted with a sigh. 

Lexa smiled supportively, nuzzling Clarke affectionately. 

Students were flooding in and out of the art building, all staring, some jealously, others just taking note, it seemed. 

“If you don’t feel comfortable, I can behave.” Lexa reminded gently, though Clarke was already leaning up to capture her lips. 

“And give people the impression you’re on the market?” Clarke snorted, her tone light and teasing. “As if.” 

Lexa chuckled into their kiss, her arms moving from the wall to hug Clarke’s waist, pulling her flush against her. 

A movement in the corner of Clarke’s vision caught her attention and she turned her head to the side, Lexa tracing her gaze. 

Ilan, her art TA, was already moving into the building, waving at Clarke with a friendly wink. 

Clarke could feel Lexa bristle ever so slightly, as she tightened her grip just barely past the point of recognition. 

“Your art TA doesn’t look like an artist.” Lexa mumbled petulantly. 

“What does an artist look like?” Clarke queried, glancing back at Lexa’s hardened gaze. 

“Someone who spends all their time in the studio, and not the gym.” Lexa replied with the hint of a growl. 

The whole thing sent Clarke off into a fit of laughter, that immediately melted Lexa’s frown off, and a smile bloomed on her full lips. 

“Alexandria.” Clarke sighed, still shaking with laughter, clinging to Lexa. “I think everyone here knows your name, and exactly who you are. No one messes with the top dog. I think you’re safe, here.” 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I bet he’s a douche.” 

Clarke grinned. “You’re the one who walks around the apartment in  _ only _ your calvins with that pouty look and those washboard abs.” 

Lexa grumbled something under her breath but blushed anyway. She let go of her teasing petulance and focused on Clarke’s gaze. “Can I take you out to lunch, today?” 

Clarke feigned excitement. “Like...a date?” She stammered on purpose, teasing. 

Lexa smirked. “Yes, Clarke, like a date.” She leaned forward, tugging softly at Clarke’s bottom lip, drawing a soft whimper from the blonde. “I guess I have a crush on you.” 

Clarke grinned, stealing another quick peck from her lips. “I have a break at two-thirty.” She replied, more serious. “I expect an update on your rivalry with Ryder, okay?” 

Lexa saluted. “Yes ma’am.” 

It was satisfying to know that Lexa  _ The Commander  _ Woods took orders from her, and with a smile on her face, to boot. 

“Love you.” Clarke murmured as they hugged tightly, as if going to war. 

“I love you more Clarke Abigail Griffin!” Lexa announced over her shoulder, for all to hear, as she strode off to practice, all eyes trained on her and a blushing, retreating Clarke. 

Clarke shuffled into the building, a stupid grin on her face as she pushed into the designated studio for class, happy to find Murphy waiting in his seat, looking particularly bored. 

“Hey Murph.” Clarke nodded as she sat beside him. “How’s your  morning?” 

“Really weird!” Murphy feigned excitement, his voice comically rising an octave. “I just saw the head quarterback playing tonsil hockey with her artist girlfriend! In public! Could you imagine?” 

Clarke blushed, hiding her face behind her bag. “I just miss her.” She defended. “She’s gone for the whole day.” 

Murphy, contrary to what Clarke expected, just nodded. “I know.” He replied. 

If anyone understood longing for their partner, it was John Murphy, who was as bonded to Emori as Clarke was to Lexa. 

“Do you know what we’re doing today?” Clarke whispered, hurrying to brandish her supplies. 

“Art, probably.” Murphy snorted. 

“Seriously, Murphy.” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“Oh. Huh. Looks like we’re drawing our beloved TA shirtless.” 

“Murphy, seriously.” Clarke snapped. 

“Eyes up, Griffin.” 

_ Oh. Well damn.  _

“I really didn't think he could get any douchier.” Murphy quipped. “You think you know a guy…Wow, he gives Woods a run for her money.” 

Clarke scoffed, cheeks turning red at the thought. “Um, trust me, no he doesn’t.” 

Ilan shifted into a new shirt, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the classroom. Everyone  _ except  _ Clarke and Murphy, who were thinking about Lexa’s ass, and setting something on fire for the fun of it, respectively. 

“Alright, class.” Ilan spoke up, waking Clarke from her reverie. “Today I’ll be calling each of you up individually to discuss your last piece, and what we can do, objectively, to improve. Sound fair?” 

“Sounds like a class I should’ve taken online.” Murphy grumbled, leaning back in his seat. 

Clarke snickered silently, while Ilan began calling people up alphabetically. She turned to her bag, pulling out a rather beaten looking moleskine sketchbook. 

“That looks old.” Murphy commented. 

“It’s an old sketchbook from high school.” Clarke replied. “I actually started it at the end of junior year, and every time I felt a rush of inspiration, I added to it.” 

Murphy nodded, holding the book, feeling the soft leather against his calloused fingertips. “May I?” 

Clarke nodded, mindful of how respectful he was. 

He flipped through, thumbing through the cream colored pages, until he paused at a section, still near the beginning. 

“Your work started picking up here.” He noted. 

Clarke blinked. “How do you know?” 

“The quality is better.” Murphy replied. “The pages are a bit worn. It’s like someone breathed life into your work.” 

Clarke blushed heavily, propping her head up on her arm. “I met Lexa that day.” She admitted, and Murphy shook his head knowingly. 

“And that day?” 

“She held me during an anxiety attack.” 

“..Whoah, what’s this masterpiece?” 

“That was new year’s eve.” 

“And this?” 

“Our first-” 

“Don’t say it.” He grumbled. 

“-I was going to say date.” Clarke replied with a wry smile. 

“Oh. And this is still ongoing?” Murphy asked thoughtfully. 

Clarke nodded. “It’s kind of become exclusively Lexa’s book. I only sketch in it when I’m particularly inspired by her.” 

“Inspired?” Murphy queried. 

“You know.” Clarke shrugged timidly. “Whenever she inspires rushes of feeling in me.” 

“This sounds a little more like an addict’s diary than a sketchbook.” 

“I’d say Lexa is the best kind of drug, but...that sounds a bit cliche.” 

Before Murphy could agree, Clarke was called up to the front of the room, by Ilan, who glanced at her with a smile that he didn’t seem to match for every other student. 

“If he feels you up, I’m telling Woods.” Murphy grumbled. 

“Look who’s suddenly Lexa’s best friend.” Clarke smirked as she patted Murphy’s back, rising to go and meet the TA. 

“Clarke.” Ilan smiled, white and pearly. “I bet you can already guess what I have to say about your work.” 

“...It looked like it was done at 3 am with little to no sleep?” Clarke queried, half teasing, half actually nervous that he didn’t find it up to snuff. 

Well, she and Lexa technically  _ hadn’t  _ gotten much sleep the week prior. 

...Her TA didn’t need to know the details. 

“Hah.” Ilan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You have the highest grade in the class by far. You know that.” 

“I...do?” Clarke raised a brow. “I mean, we’re only a few weeks in-” 

“Clarke.” Ilan cut her off. “Do you ever believe that your work is just...good?” 

Clarke blinked, taken aback. “I...Well, yes, but…” 

“Great.” He paused. “You know, I heard you came here per Dante Wallace’s recommendation, back in Arkadia.”

Clarke looked dumbfounded. “...I did. You know him?” 

Ilan smiled. “Who hasn’t heard of him? He’s kind of art’s equivalent to Beyonce.” 

Clarke snorted. “That’s...an interesting analogy.” 

Ilan smirked. “You know, Dante’s opened up a new gallery in the city. It’s attracting hundreds of renowned artists every day.” 

Clarke perked up. “Oh my god, yeah!  _ The Mountain,  _ right? He named it after Mt. Weather-” 

“-Academy. Yeah.” Ilan nodded. “Looks like you did your homework. I knew I was right about you.” He preened. 

“Right about me?” Clarke blinked. “What does this have to do with me, exactly?” She asked, rubbing the back of her neck in confusion. 

“So recently, Dante reached out to some students, to help him run things, internship-kind of jobs. I was selected to be the manager, and I get to pick a select few to help me run things and maintain them, select new pieces for the galas, that sort of thing.” 

Clarke’s eyes were blown wide with surprise. “...And you want me to help you?” 

Ilan smirked. “Not just help...work for me. Pay, benefits, everything. And I’ll be flexible, so it won’t mix with your class hours. What do you say?” 

“I’d love to.” Clarke blurted out, heart hammering in her chest. Oh, god, this was it! This was everything she’d ever dreamed of, and in her first year of college? Her father had to have been proud, looking down on that moment. And Abby? Clarke couldn’t wait to call her and tell her the news. And Lexa! Lexa would be thrilled! 

“Cool.” Ilan smiled. “You’re uh...kinda shaking.” 

“It’s just...an honor.” Clarke shook her head, thanking him wordlessly. “I just...I hope things work out with Lexa.” 

Ilan cocked a brow. “Lexa Woods? Quarterback protege?” 

“My girlfriend.” Clarke clarified. “The girl I was, um, kissing...earlier.” 

“Right.” Ilan frowned. “Wait, what do you mean you hope it works out with her?” 

Clarke balked. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean our relationship. I just...She has a crazy busy schedule, and I like to be available for her…”She trailed off as she realized how pathetic she sounded. “Nevermind. I’ll uh...email you about it?” 

Ilan smiled, ripping a sticky note from the desk, scribbling his number on it. “Better yet, text me.” 

“Right. Thanks.” Clarke grabbed the paper and turned around, making a mad dash for Murphy, but mostly, her phone. 

Her insides were tingling with a strange feeling. 

Murphy snorted as he looked up and found Clarke clutching the paper, picking up her phone. “Dying to add his digits in and send him some pics?” He teased. He knew damn well why she was itching to get to her phone. 

“I have to text Lexa.” Clarke waved him off with a blissful grin. Lexa was going to be so proud of her. 

She just hoped it wouldn’t put too much time between them, as things were already getting harder and harder with Lexa’s busy schedule. 

She opened up their messages, firing off a quick: 

 

_ Hey baby! You’ll never guess what happened to me! _

_ I can’t wait to see you for lunch. I love you so much.  _

It was warm and comforting to know, despite everyone who’d told Clarke pursuing art (And by extension, her dreams) was a mistake, Lexa would be ecstatic to share her happiness. 

* * *

 

Stretched and invigorated after dropping her girlfriend off at her class, Lexa was more than ready for a day of practice, drills, and utterly  _ demolishing  _ Ryder. 

Lexa was competitive, sure, a trait instilled in her by her parents―as little as they’d been around to instill  _ anything  _ in her―and cultivated throughout her years of sports, rigorous academics, and a general desire to be better than her peers. Since her first practice, Sterling introducing her to their teammates, she’d known that Ryder was the man she needed to beat.

Plus, he was a total,  _ complete  _ jackass. 

From the moment the practice started, he’d had it out for Lexa. Granted, she’d expected this, since she was the rookie freshman―a  _ girl _ , no less, and some men were still stuck in the 1800s―and after  _ his  _ position. She’d been battered, jostled, and bruised, but damn if she wasn’t going to exceed expectations just to spite him.     

Coach Davis, for his part, also seemed somewhat fed-up with Ryder’s power plays and poorly disguised sexism. 

Around halfway through tackling drills, another player came jogging onto the field, helmet hanging in his hand. His hair was blonde and curly and his blue eyes bright, and Lexa was immediately reminded of the lovely girlfriend she had waiting for her after practice let out. 

_ If Ryder didn’t keep practice late,  _ she thought vindictively. 

“When I was told we had a late start,” Ryder’s voice echoed over the resting team, a few breathing heavily, “I didn’t think you meant late to practice,  _ Wissing _ .”

“Sorry,” the newcomer apologized with a half-hearted grin, “there was a―” 

“No excuses,” Ryder snapped, “laps, ten of them. Go.” He cast a disdainful glance in Lexa’s direction. “When you’re done, you can partner up with Woods, seeing as you two have  _ so  _ much in common.”

His mouth curled around the words as though they hid a double meaning Lexa couldn’t quite catch, and the other boy, Wissing, colored, before nodding and setting off on his assigned laps. 

“Fucking testosterone,” Lexa muttered under her breath, wiping at her brow before continuing with the drills laid out for them. 

“Ease up, dude,” Artigas wheezed, hands on his knees. Even he, the fastest member of their team, was winded, “don’t want us to choke at the game because you buried us all six feet under.”

“Don’t you think that should be  _ my  _ decision to make, being captain?” Ryder shot back, eyes narrowed. 

“Stop being an ass and get back to drills!” Davis yelled over the clamour. “Ryder, ease up or I’ll have you run across the field with Michaelson tied to your back.”

The need for males to jockey for alpha position, in Lexa’s opinion, was quite frankly ridiculous. 

Not that she ever threw herself into such competitions and always came out on top. 

No, never. 

_ That’s a lie and you know it,  _ a sing-song voice in her ear that sounded suspiciously like Clarke chimed,  _ you’re the most alpha personality here and you know it.  _

Which was partly why Lexa was so annoyed. She wasn’t used to being the powerless newcomer, wasn’t used to getting bossed around, wasn’t used to  _ not  _ being in charge of things. She’d grown accustomed to commanding power, attention, being the leader and paving the way. Being on the other end of it was exceedingly annoying. 

“Alright, let’s go!” Davis called. “Shirts and skins, boys.” He shot Lexa a small grin. “And Woods. Ryder, pick the teams.”

“Woods, you can be a skin,” he leered, and several of the other fresh recruits in the back whooped and whistled, to which Davis threatened laps, “you too, Wissing.” 

The others who had somehow managed to piss Ryder off during the extent of their practice also ended up on the skins team, including an exasperated Artigas and an incensed Sterling.

“I’m Lexa,” she introduced to Wissing as she shucked her shirt off, revealing her goddess-level physique for all to see.

“Luke,” he responded, grinning as he shook her hand, “guess asshat just really hates people with the initials LW, huh?”

“AW,” Lexa corrected with a shrug, “but close enough.”

Luke pealed his sweat-stained shirt off over his head and threw it on the quickly-growing pile of clothes and soiled towels on the bench. Underneath his pecs was a defined, if a bit faded, long scar that wrapped across the entire front of his chest. Suddenly, Ryder’s earlier digs made sense, and Lexa’s blood boiled. 

“Let’s kick his ass, yeah?” Lexa prompted, and the rest of her team―because there was no doubt, now, that she was in charge―nodded, eager to upshow Ryder after his lackluster behavior. “I’ll call the plays.”

From the first snap, it was like going to war. 

Though they were supposed to be a team, working in tandem and supporting one another, Ryder’s obsession with power had split them into fractions, and the competition was just as fierce as it would have been against a rival.   

Lexa’s team was ahead by quite a few points when Ryder finally snapped. 

Literally. 

In a move reminiscent to the time Ontari had sent her brother crashing into Lexa, one of the bigger players on the team―colloquially dubbed ‘ _ Big Guy _ ’, very creatively―charged at her at Ryder’s command, and Lexa was only spared by her quick reflexes and Luke’s warning. 

The sharp trill of the whistle interrupted before any damage could be done.   

“What were you thinking!” Davis roared, eyes alight. “This is your  _ team _ , Ryder, and you’re trying to pummel one of our best players!”

“She isn’t even that good,” Ryder brushed off, bristling, “too hyped up.”

“Oh, so not only are you an idiot, but you’re a  _ blind  _ idiot,” Davis scoffed, “Woods has more raw talent in her pinkie finger than you have in your entire body,  _ Johnson _ , consider yourself off first-string and you can kiss your captaincy goodbye.”

Ryder stood still for a long moment before he spun sharply on his heel, only to meet Luke’s innocent, unassuming leg, stumbling forward and falling on his face with little grace. 

“Whoops,” Luke apologized entirely unapologetically, “my bad.”

By this time, Ryder’s face was an ugly purple color, and Lexa fought the urge to cheer when he stormed off the field.  _ Wait till I tell Clarke about this.  _

“Clean up,” Davis sighed, shaking his head, “Sterling, you’ll be taking over captaincy until our rookie here proves herself. Woods?” Lexa turned to look at him. “Don’t let me down.”

“Of course not, coach,” Lexa agreed with a small smile. 

“Now get out of my field, I need to get to tea time with my girls.”

* * *

 

Freshly showered and new clothes donned, Lexa walked out of the girl’s locker rooms with a wide grin spread across her face. She fished her phone out of her bag and unlocked it quickly, smiling when she saw Clarke’s text notification. 

_ Hey baby! You’ll never guess what happened! _

_ I can’t wait to see you for lunch. I love you so much. _

_ Knowing you it’s probably something spectacular.  _

_ I have news too, but let me hear about yours first. _

_ Love you too baby :* _

Though they’d been dating for almost a year, Lexa never failed to feel the same small rush of exhilaration when she saw her girlfriend typing away, butterflies flying around in her stomach. She often wondered if they’d ever leave the cute, butterfly stage of their relationship, but it was hard to  _ not  _ be utterly enamored when the person she was dating also happened to be her best friend. 

**_You remember Dante Wallace?_ **

_ The guy in charge of your scholarship? Of course. _

She also remembered, very clearly, his asshole of a son, but didn’t want to sully Clarke’s excitement by bringing up Cage Wallace. 

_**Well, he’s opening an art gallery here called The Mountain.** _

_ After Mt. Weather? _

**_Yeah, exactly (conceited much? lol)_ **

**_But anyways, he spoke to Ilan about taking on some students as interns._ **

**_!!!!_ **

**_Ilan invited me to join personally!!!!_ **

**_I’m so excited!!!_ **

_ That’s fantastic baby! I’m so proud of you :) _

_ My favorite artist, moving up in the world. _

Lexa still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Clarke’s TA, though she supposed she was just wary of any people who looked at her girlfriend for a little too long. Not that she blamed them, Clarke  _ was  _ gorgeous, but Lexa was oddly territorial sometimes. 

**_I love you so much._ **

**_You’re perfect._ **

**_!!!!_ **

**_I can’t wait to start I’m gonna learn so much!_ **

**_So what’s your news?_ **

Lexa grinned at the very memory of it. 

_ I kicked Ryder’s ass.  _

_ He’s been removed from first-string.  _

_ Captaincy here I come. _

**_Lexa! That’s amazing! Knew you could do it._ **

**_The commander bows to no one._ **

**_Except her lovely girlfriend of course ;)_ **

_ You know it, babe.  _

_ Omw to pick you up and romance you. _

_ Oh thank god I’m famished. _

_ I thought you were Clarke? _

_ Ur sex privelleges just got provoked u dork.  _

Lexa grinned when she strolled up to the art classroom she’d left Clarke in, stomach doing the somersaults it always did when she saw the ethereal beauty she’d gotten so lucky as to call her girlfriend. 

“Hey baby,” she greeted, smiling when Clarke pressed their lips together, “missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Clarke insisted, eyes alight.  

“You were seperated, for like, an hour,” a familiar voice drawled from behind them, and Lexa took a moment to flip Murphy off before recapturing Clarke’s lips in another kiss. 

“Fuck you, Woods.”

“You aren’t my type,” Lexa brushed off once she and Clarke parted, her arm moving to wrap around Clarke’s waist comfortably, “and I wouldn’t want to get in a fight with Emori.”

“Damn right you wouldn’t,” Murphy scoffed, “she’d kick your ass.”

Lexa hummed in lieu of a response, pulling Clarke closer to her side. 

“We’re going to get lunch,” Clarke reported faithfully, snuggled into Lexa contentedly. Murphy raised an eyebrow before following them. 

“You can be gay later,” he huffed at Lexa when she rolled her eyes at him, “after you feed me.”

“Who says I’m buying your food?”

“Woods, after all the trauma you and Griffin have put me through, you kinda owe me.”

* * *

 

Clarke and Lexa had barely seen each other, with Clarke preparing for her job, while Lexa balanced work and intensive practices for her upcoming game. 

Two weeks after their lunch meeting, Lexa’s opening game against some local university was rapidly approaching. Lexa spent more and more time at practice, and Clarke spent more and more time studying alone. And the two barely had any time to be with each other in a relaxed state. 

That was, until the morning of the game. 

Lexa was  _ finally  _ granted some rest, and to boot, their morning psychology lecture had been canceled. 

Clarke was keen on enjoying every second with Lexa, relaxing her and pumping her up for the game, even though it was much later in the evening. 

Even though Clarke was insistent on pampering Lexa, making sure each and every muscle in her body was relaxed, Lexa didn’t seem to care. She seemed more entranced with Clarke’s company, instead. 

The girls had finally,  _ finally  _ gotten a chance to sleep in. 

And, god, it was good. 

Lexa was laying with her head on Clarke’s chest, breathing in deeply and blissfully as Clarke ran her hands through her hair, gently massaging her scalp.

Lexa’s fingers were tracing patterns against Clarke’s stomach, expressing her delight at Clarke’s presence and calming touch without words. 

“You ready?” Clarke asked, voice gravelly with the weight of sleep. 

“Yes.” Lexa answered softly. “As long as you’ll be there.” 

“You’ve played games without me.” Clarke teased. 

“You’re my good luck charm.” Lexa insisted. 

“I will be right there in the stands, watching, cheering, and swooning over you.” Clarke insisted, hugging Lexa a bit tighter. 

“Stands? No, you can get a seat near the bench.” Lexa insisted. 

Clarke chuckled. “Baby, that was back at Arkadia, where the rules weren’t as strict, and you were already the star.” 

“You don’t think I’m the star?” Lexa quipped. 

“I think you’re my star. As far as the team, you’ve got some work ahead of you. But, with your playing...it’ll probably take a single game to convince the rest of the school.” 

Lexa smirked, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s chest. “You make a good pep-talk.” 

“What are best friends for?” Clarke replied teasingly. 

“Lazy morning sex?” Lexa tried, lips grazing Clarke’s breasts over her sleep shirt, drawing a moan from the blonde, stiff peaks rising as a result, tented by her shirt. 

“Lex.” Clarke fingers tugged slightly in her hair. “I thought you were supposed to take it easy, save your energy for the game.” 

Lexa groaned. “I don’t want to hear another word about the game.” Her fingers ghosted Clarke’s side, leaving chills in their wake. “I want to make sweet, sweet love-” 

Clarke’s phone rang out into the silence, prompting the blonde to stretch to reach it from the night stand. “It’s my mom.” She sighed, and Lexa paused, looking for direction. “...I can call her back.” Clarke pulled Lexa’s head towards her breasts, feeling hot need pool in her lower stomach. 

Lexa nodded, slowly peeling at Clarke’s shirt, licking her lips in excitement for one of her favorite views. 

Instead, her phone began blaring out, interrupting the sexy tension between them. 

Clarke frowned, leaning over to Lexa’s side to grab it, Lexa still splayed out on her chest, waiting petulantly. 

“...It’s my mom.” Clarke sighed. “It’s probably nothing.” 

“Clarke, she called both of us.” Lexa smirked. “It’s okay, I’ll still be here.” 

“Thanks.” Clarke retorted, rolling her eyes as she accepted the call. “Hey mom.” 

“Clarke!” Abby’s voice was alight at the other end. “Oh, thank god you picked up.” 

“What?” Clarke immediately stiffened. “Why? What’s wrong?” 

At those words, Lexa stiffened as well, blinking up with worry. 

“Nothing! I just need to speak with Lexa before her game!” Abby huffed in excitement. “Is she there? She’s not eating too much, I hope? And her knee, I know how it acts up-” 

“She’s right here.” Clarke rolled her eyes to the high heavens, growling in annoyance, but it was tempered with a light sense of humor. “One sec.” 

Clarke pressed the mute button momentarily, glancing at Lexa. “She’s your biggest fan.” Clarke grumbled. “She called to check in on her favorite player.” 

Lexa smirked, pressing a wet kiss to Clarke’s stomach in response to her annoyance. 

“Never thought this day would come.” Clarke mumbled, passing the phone to Lexa. 

“Good morning, Abby.” Lexa’s voice was polite and chipper, and it made Clarke grin at her sudden change of pace. 

“Hi honey, how’s my champion?” 

Lexa grinned. “This is just the first game.” 

Abby’s reply was quick. “Oh, we know.” 

“We?” Lexa prodded amusedly. 

“Oh, honey. Your mom, dad, brother, his boyfriend, Kane, Jaha, and even Niylah and her new boyfriend are coming over to watch it.” 

“Oh.” Lexa blinked, sounding shocked, as if she hadn’t remembered that it’d be televised. “Wow, that’s-” 

“The whole town is buzzing about you, sweetie. Marcus even spray painted Pauna in your colors.” 

Lexa wheezed in surprise, while Clarke doubled over on the bed, snickering gleefully at all the attention Lexa was receiving. 

“I just wanted to check in, and see how your knee was doing. It’s not acting up anymore, is it?” Abby asked, concern in her tone that made Lexa’s heart melt. 

“No, thank you.” Lexa replied softly. “Just my nerves. Lots of pressure.” 

“Oh, I just know you’ll be great. Your parents will likely call, I just wanted to make sure I spoke to you before work starts. We’re all rooting for you back home, okay? Love you, Lexa.” 

“Love you too, Abby.” Lexa replied gently, disconnecting the call after a a few more words of farewell. 

Clarke sat forward on her knees, wrapping her arms around Lexa, squeezing her comfortingly. 

“Your mother is so sweet.” Lexa noted gently, leaning back into Clarke’s embrace. 

“Never thought I’d hear you say that.” Clarke answered wryly. “To be fair, I never thought you’d end a phone call to Abby with “I love you” either, so…” Clarke drawled, tickling lightly at Lexa’s sides, eliciting a chuckle from her. 

“It’s okay to be nervous.” Clarke whispered softly, hands slipping up Lexa’s shirt and running gently, soothingly along her abs. 

“My parents are watching.” Lexa admitted shyly. 

“They’ve seen you play before.” Clarke reminded. 

“Yeah, but this...I mean, I’m trying to prove to them that it’s a viable career, if I choose not to work full time for the company.” 

“Alexandria Anastasia Woods.” Clarke whispered soothingly. “Always challenging yourself, love. Well, I know you’re too stubborn to be dissuaded.” 

Lexa smiled softly, toothily, feeling at ease with Clarke’s words and the soft lilt of her voice. 

“But, I can assure you that no matter how you play, where you work, what you do, any of that…” Clarke began with a long breath. “I will still love you with exactly all of my heart.” She squeezed Lexa in her embrace, love dripping from each syllable. 

Lexa blinked back the overwhelming emotions, wishing she could bury herself inside Clarke, her words, her warmth, her love, forever. 

“...now.” Clarke drawled, lips pressing against Lexa’s shoulder. “Breakfast of champions?” 

* * *

 

The pregame ritual of their tenure at Arkadia hadn’t changed a bit. It had all the same elements: Clarke, Lexa, a jar of eyeblack, an empty women’s locker room, and hushed whispers of affection, and reassurance. 

Just, this time, a lot more nerves. 

It was rather interesting to Clarke. 

She’d never seen Lexa so...antsy. So unsure of herself. Where the girl’s chin would usually be up, her eyes holding a clear sheen of intensity, her thoughts clear as day- her gaze was down, her thoughts muddled, her face in the crook of Clarke’s neck, clinging to the girl. 

Clarke knew how difficult it was for Lexa to be vulnerable with those around her. This was the ultimate trust, and Clarke knew better than to try and ameliorate it with with a bout of light joking. 

“Hey, look at me.” Clarke suggested lightly, leaning back to cup Lexa’s chin, directing her gaze into Clarke’s. 

Her mind flew to her days in high school, fresh after Jake’s death, after the incident. 

She remembered her mind’s tendency to spiral, rapidly, uncontrollably, jumping from topic to topic, feeding off Clarke’s happiness, leaving behind the shell of the girl she normally was. 

Her mind flew to one moment in particular, and one person. 

She remembered the way Murphy, a fellow sufferer of post traumatic anxiety, had consoled her over and over again. 

_ “Clarke, look at me.” He’d command, voice gentle.  _

“Lex, look at me.” Clarke repeated softly. 

Green eyes met blue, nervous and unsure, so unlike their usual confident glimmer. 

Clarke knew a lot of it had to do with her parents, with the added responsibility, with the lack of sleep. 

“ _ I want you to clear your mind. I know it sounds hard, but it’s not, okay? Close your eyes.”  _

“I’m gonna help you relax.” Clarke soothed, softly rubbing Lexa’s temples. “Close your eyes, baby.” 

Lexa obediently shut her eyes, trying her best to relax under Clarke’s grip. 

“ _ Take a deep breath. It’s important to breathe.”  _

“Breathe- there you go, nice and deep, slowly, Lex. Perfect.” 

_ “Clarke, tell me what you hear? List things.”  _

“Lexa, baby, tell me what you hear. Anything at all.” 

Lexa took a breath, as directed, and began softly reciting things. “I...I hear the water, in the pipes.” Lexa noted. “I can hear...my own heart. God, that’s faster than usual.” 

“Because of the game?” Clarke prodded softly. 

“Or because you’re touching me.” Lexa quipped with a wry little ghost of a smile. 

Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes, because that was a good sign. Her Lexa was coming back: playful, flirty, arrogant, but good-intentioned. 

“I hear your breathing.” Lexa continued, eyes still closed. “You’re worried.” 

“...Not about your performance.” Clarke admitted. 

“The likelihood of me getting injured.” Lexa spoke sagely. 

Clarke sighed. “Lex, these are bigger, older, scarier-” 

Lexa smirked, cracking an eye open. “I know, Clarke.” 

Clarke cupped her cheeks. “Be careful. That’s all. And if you ever feel like you’re lost out there, I’ll be in your corner.” Clarke reminded, placing a tender kiss on her lips. 

Lexa smiled into the kiss, finally at ease. “I love you.” She whispered, as Clarke brandished the jar of eye-black, and a makeup brush. 

“A brush?” Lexa quipped. 

Clarke smirked. “I’m an official artist now, right? Might as well upgrade the way I operate, since you and I both seem to be going pro.” 

Lexa grinned. “I am your canvas.” She bowed her head respectfully to further her point.

Clarke chuckled, dabbing her brush into the jar, noting how thick it was. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen  _ Commander  _ Lexa. And no smart comments about me seeing her in the bedroom, Alexandria.” 

Lexa fought the urge to laugh, holding still under Clarke’s touch. 

“The world is going to fall in love with you, Lexa..” Clarke murmured, buried in thought as she dipped her brush down along regal, defined cheekbones, creating the teary mask that defined Lexa’s entire on-field persona. 

The unspoken words died in her throat. 

_ Just don’t forget me along the way, okay?  _

It was game time. 

* * *

 

Clarke was  _ enthralled  _ by the sheer number of people lining Polis U’s local stadium. It was otherworldly, compared to Arkadia’s maximum turnout of about three thousand students. 

People lined both sides of the stadium as it wrapped around the freshly maintained field, where the kickoff had just occurred. 

Clarke felt small, insignificant somehow, as she leaned back into the comfort of Murphy, Emori, Lincoln, and Octavia, who’d all made it for Lexa’s first game. 

While Lexa wasn’t exactly the prime star yet, she’d managed to land them all seats at the very front, as close to her bench as possible. 

Clarke had taken in each of her players with a scrutinizing look. God, they were huge. They all looked as if they were built to lift a truck. Lexa, in all her muscled, goddess-like glory, looked like a mouse between them. 

Or, she would have. 

If her appearance didn’t look entirely vicious, commanding and sharp. 

Clarke had never seen so many cut-out’s of Lexa’s head, masked in her war paint. Was that a thing? Cardboard cutouts of the player? 

And the jerseys. 

Clarke had seen nearly a thousand jerseys, black with a deep red trim, sporting “WOODS” across the back in bold lettering. 

She was wearing Lexa’s actual away jersey, and felt pride, though it was a little petty, that she wasn’t wearing some knock-off. 

Still, some people chose to don Ryder’s jersey, or Sterling’s, and a little less than half the stadium wore blue, the color of the rival team. 

Lexa still had a lot to prove. 

And  _ damn,  _ did she go to work. 

From the minute of the kickoff, Lexa was summoned over Ryder, a choice that shocked a good amount of people. From over the sounds of Lincoln’s booming shouts and Octavia’s cheers, Clarke could hear Lexa barking out orders left and right, calling plays that she couldn’t fathom. 

With every loss of yardage (though there weren’t many instances), Clarke found herself clenching the arm of whichever unfortunate soul was beside her. With ever touchdown made off a play Lexa had wisely chosen to run, Clarke would heave a sigh of relief and often lose herself, screaming Lexa’s name in the process. 

But that was all part of the game. 

What really stunned Clarke was just how many students were screaming even louder for the attention of her girlfriend, roaring their approval, shouting their support. 

It was almost as if Lexa was an object of the public. 

_ And Clarke didn’t like that.  _

She found it hard to focus on Abby’s excited texts of: “DID YOU SEE THAT?” or “THAT PASS, CLARKE, WOW”. 

She found it hard to focus on Lincoln’s critical analysis of each play, which she usually found exceedingly insightful and helpful. 

She found it difficult to laugh at Emori throwing popcorn at Murphy whenever he grumbled something about all the places he’d rather have been (and every just knew he was dying to support Lexa at heart). 

Why? 

Because Clarke had finally opened her eyes. Just beside her, two girls were wearing cropped versions of Lexa’s jersey that ended above the midriff, and they took photos of Lexa for snapchat and instagram, with captions Clarke could see, often too suggestive (read: crude) for her liking. 

But all it took was one smirk from Octavia and a prod from Murphy in the form of, “Oh, is princess jealous of all the hearteyes Lexa is getting?” 

Clarke huffed a quick, “What?  _ Of course not.”  _

Because no girlfriend in her right mind would be upset with her partner’s success, right? That’d be selfish. And Clarke had grown. She wasn’t the insecure girl from Arkadia, anymore. She was her own person, independent of Lexa, and she didn’t get jealous anymore. 

It was a crushing victory, in the end. 

So when the game ended, and Lexa bounded over to lean against the wall where Clarke was waiting, she pretended not to be disappointed when Lexa was, instead, ambushed by the wannabe professionals that the school paper and news stations employed, Clarke seemingly forgotten, in lieu of an interview. 

_ Better get used to it, Clarke. This is the way things are going to be.  _

Clarke didn’t notice Lexa’s eyes following her as she left with her scattered group of Delinquents to go get ice cream, seeing as Lexa wasn’t coming out anytime soon. 

* * *

 

_ Clarke left.  _

“Lexa, what can we expect from you as far as the captaincy, moving forward?” 

“I...that’s not up to me. That’s at Coach Davis’ discretion.” 

“Do you expect to have it as a first-year player?” 

“Is that really a fair question?” Lexa replied coolly, arrogantly, channeling her mother’s prowess when it came to avoiding questions that could frame her in a poor light. 

“Anyone you’d like to say hi to?” 

“Just my parents, my brother Aden, and my girlfriend, Clarke.” Lexa answered, wiping the sweat from her brow as she contemplated where on Earth Clarke could have gone. She  _ always  _ stayed to kiss Lexa after her game. 

Lexa tried to stave off the betrayal she felt.  _ She probably saw the cameras and got uncomfortable. Not everyone enjoys this, Lexa, don’t be selfish.  _ She scolded herself, and before she could answer another question, she was swept up by Coach Davis and Sterling, who ushered her back into the tunnel, where the press couldn’t reach them any longer. 

“Great game, kid, wonderful.” Davis adjusted his cap, chewing his gum thoughtfully. “You seem to know how to handle yourself around the parasites.” 

Lexa quirked a brow. “My family is...used to it.” Lexa noted, feeling the post-game ache settle into her bones, now that her adrenaline was sapped. 

“Right.” Davis nodded. “That’s what Sterling is here to talk to you about, before you go off and change. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” 

He clapped Lexa on the back and Sterling jumped in. “Hey. First of all, great game. You look like a better prospect than Ryder already.” 

Lexa smirked at that. 

“...Just don’t let it go to your head.” Sterling chuckled at her expression. “Players come and go, the team is what matters. Think of every game like a test Woods.” 

Lexa nodded, used to the pressure-talk. She desperately needed him to get to the point, so she could go see Clarke. 

“So, as you noticed- you’re kind of a hot topic around here.” Sterling informed her. “You have a twitter handle, too.” 

Lexa nodded. She’d already maintained some-thousand followers, just from being who she was, born into one of the wealthiest families around, and with their looks? An instant call to attention. 

“So, word of advice- you’re gonna skyrocket, from here on out. Everything you do is under the public eye.”

Lexa nodded, blinking. “So you want me to set my accounts to private?” 

“No!” Sterling laughed in surprise. “That’ll kill your momentum, Woods. But...think of yourself like a business.” 

_ A business, and not a person.  _ Lexa thought.  _ How apropos.  _

“You want to attract as many followers as you can. Build yourself up, if you’re even thinking of looking at the pros. And hey, that’s a long shot. But despite every single odd against you, you’re here. So...word to the wise. Interact, with your fans. Be public, be open. But also, be smart? Get what I mean? If you’re gonna get shitfaced, don’t broadcast that.” 

“Right.” Lexa droned. 

“Alright. Cool.” Sterling grinned. “Good game. I’ll see you at practice?” 

Lexa nodded, their hands clapping as they parted with what Clarke would fondly dub as a “bro hug”. 

_ Clarke.  _

Lexa was somewhat unsettled as she set out to find her, Sterling’s words bouncing around in her brain. 

* * *

 

Clarke was faithfully waiting for Lexa in her locker room, and Lexa’s worries dissipated as soon as she felt Clarke leap onto her, arms going around her neck as she peppered Lexa’s face with kisses. 

So maybe she was just camera-shy. Lexa knew better than to confront it. She didn’t want to make Clarke feel like her social anxieties would ever be an issue in their relationship. 

“Hi.” Lexa breathed, slightly stunned, as she felt Clarke kiss every inch of her face. 

“Congratulations.” Clarke murmured, feeling Lexa’s arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you.” Lexa beamed. “My good luck charm was there.” 

Clarke smiled, warm and bright. She pushed down the creeping sentiment of,  _ “Which one?”  _

She knew Lexa was referring to her. She couldn’t understand why she felt the way she did. She was what Lexa wanted. She was enough. 

“So, all the nerves are gone?” Clarke asked caringly. 

“Yes. I think it was just...first game jitters.” Lexa shrugged it off. She paused momentarily, setting Clarke down, cupping her cheeks. “Thank you, for believing in me.” She whispered. 

Clarke’s eyes glimmered with genuine awe at Lexa’s loving gaze. “Always.” She murmured, turning her cheek to kiss Lexa’s hand, tenderly. 

“Where are the others?” Lexa asked, moving to remove her jersey, leaving her in just her bra and shoulder pad above the torso. 

Clarke licked her lips. “...Out.” She mumbled. 

“Oh. Well, I’ll be quick with that shower.” Lexa replied, pulling her things out of her duffel bag. 

“...Or….” Clarke shrugged innocently, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. “You and I could just...celebrate a little? You do remember what I promised if you won, right?” 

Lexa paused, blinking rapidly. “I...um, I…” 

Clarke suppressed a husky laugh. She loved how she could make the fierce Commander stumble over her words like a child. 

“I want you to paint the insides of my thighs with that war paint, Commander.” 

Lexa gaped, heart thumping in her chest, as Clarke tapped her shoulder, silently requesting to be held. 

Lexa obliged, pulling her against her chest as she leaned back against the lockers, meeting Clarke’s lips in a hot, overly-charged kiss. 

“I love you, Lex.” Clarke mumbled against her lips, feeling safe, once again, as the sole bearer of Lexa’s affections. 

It sounded a lot like  _ I’m sorry I overreacted.  _

She realized how ridiculous she was being in the heat of the moment, but confidence did not come easily to her. But that was what this year was about, wasn’t it? Growing, changing, re-affirming that she wasn’t Lexa, nor was she Lexa’s girl, but Clarke, her own person, with her own wants and needs. 

It would take time, Clarke knew. 

But with Lexa’s love, she could. 

* * *

 

In the aftermath of Lexa’s victory, her fame was slowly but steadily rising, alongside her number of twitter followers. 

Lexa had given Clarke a brief talk about her social media, giving her a quick update over breakfast one morning, while Clarke was still numb from a round of mindblowing wake-up sex. 

So, maybe, the intensity of her words hadn’t exactly set it. 

If Clarke had thought that dealing with her girlfriend being exceedingly popular in high school was bad, this magnified all her feelings of insecurity and insignificance tenfold. Of course, Lexa adored Clarke with every fibre of her being, and showered her with reassurances and compliments every time they were together, her lips soft on Clarke’s own and hands gentle. 

When she was around, at least. 

Clarke couldn’t blame Lexa at all for her absence. What with the rigor of college classes, football practices, and shaping up for the management position at her parents’ company, Lexa had her plate full. And Clarke, too, was kept busy with art and prepping for her new job alongside Ilan. Though a bit egotistical―as most men were―he seemed to have his heart in the right place, and her gratitude towards him was never-ending. It wasn’t often that a freshman in college was allowed to intern at the galleries of one of the most well-known people in the arts circles. 

Dante Wallace just kept looking out for her, so it seemed. 

In a rare moment of free time, sketching the familiar lines of Lexa’s jaw for an art project, Clarke smiled when her phone buzzed. 

Lexa was at practice, without her phone, and Clarke found the source of the notification the smaller, blonder Woods sibling. 

**_Clarke did you see???_ **

**_Buzzfeed made a video on people reacting to Lex!_ **

**_BUZZFEED, CLARKE. BUZZFEED_ **

Aden’s excitement was palpable, and Clarke radiated with pride for her girlfriend. 

_ No, I haven’t. Link me? _

**_[attachment: 1 link]_ **

**_Clarke it’s crazy._ **

**_She’s gotten like, a thousand more followers in the past couple hours._ **

**_Someone DM’ed me asking if I had pictures of her abs._ **

Clarke frowned at that bit. 

Though Lexa had been popular in high school, most of the people who pined after her did so quietly and with the discretion of a hopeless, lovesick teenager. When it came to the internet, and specifically fame on the internet, people tended to be a lot more invasive, and  _ much  _ more bold. 

Instead of freaking out about it, though, Clarke brushed her concerns aside. 

How much harm could a few fangirls do, anyway?

_ Well did you? ;) _

**_Ew no :p_ **

**_I have pictures of my bf’s abs_ **

**_But I don’t think she’d have appreciated_ **

**_Don’t tell Lex I said that._ **

**_Pls_ **

Clarke rolled her eyes fondly. 

_ I won’t.  _

_ You’ll forever be a toddler in her eyes. _

_ Aren’t you in class? Do your work. _

**_But Trikru :(((_ **

_ Aden Augustus _

**_Fine :p_ **

Clarke watched the video as she sketched, eyes drawn to the well-oiled form of her girlfriend gliding across the field, muscles moving gracefully as she displayed her absolute physical perfection, and was struck, suddenly, at how lucky she was to be able to call Lexa her own. 

_ Hey baby.  _

_ I know ur at practice.  _

_ Just wanted to let you know that I’m so in love with you. _

_ I’m so lucky.  _

_ Love you commander :* :* :* _

Sure enough, just as Aden had faithfully reported, Lexa’s twitter followers had once more climbed. A few had strayed over to Clarke’s twitter, and she fought the urge to put her account on private. It was just a few strangers, she could handle them. Besides, being hidden from the eyes of the public just made them more interested in what they thought you were doing. When they saw her twitter was mainly comprised of jabs at the other delinquents’ stupidity and hearteye emojis at her girlfriend’s tweets, they’d get bored and move along. 

**_I love you so so so much_ **

**_Practice is running late, might not be home for dinner._ **

**_Will shower you in kisses when I get home._ **

**_And I’M the lucky one._ **

Clarke smiled at the response to her messages, though couldn’t help but feel slightly disheartened. Interruptions kept springing up on the limited time they had together, and she sent a quick text to Murphy asking him to come over. 

By the time he’d made it, Clarke already had chinese delivered, and he wordlessly accepted a takeout box of lo mein and jabbed a potsticker with a chopstick. 

“That’s barbaric,” Clarke huffed, nodding at his less than stellar chopstick abilities. 

“I’m white, Griffin, I’m not supposed to know how to use these properly,” Murphy snarked over a mouthful of noodles. “Your lady lover still at practice?”

“Unfortunately,” Clarke huffed, poking at her fried rice moodily. “I don’t know how you do it. Lex leaves for two seconds and I feel so hopelessly lonely.”

“Lots of naps,” Murphy responded seriously, “and facetime, and Emori sends over sweaters.”

“I’m a mess,” Clarke groaned. 

“A gay mess,” Murphy agreed, “college will be good for you two, Griffin, teach you how to be a little less co-dependent.”

“It’s just so  _ hard _ ,” Clarke whined in a rare indulgence of self-pity, “I just want to be with her all the time.”

“That’s love for ya,” Murphy responded simply, stabbing another potsticker. “Does some crazy shit to you.”

“Amen to that,” Clarke agreed. 

“So,” Murphy opened, “did you finish that shirtless portrait of our self-absorbed twat of a TA?” Clarke shoved his shoulder slightly and Murphy’s eyes narrowed when she then proceeded to grab for a potsticker, cradling the container to his chest protectively. 

“You just pushed me,” he complained, “no greasy fake chinese goodness for you.”

Clarke took one anyways.

“He’s not that bad,” she said after she swallowed. Murphy raised a manicured eyebrow―the product of a spa day with Emori―and waited. 

“Okay, maybe he’s a little self-absorbed,” Clarke consented, ignoring his utterance of,  _ more like a lot _ , “but give him a chance! He did get me that internship, after all, and he seems like a nice guy.”

“I know plenty of  _ nice guys  _ who are absolute dickwads,” Murphy said, “I mean, take Bell for example. Shithead’s a menace.” His words were contradicted by the fond expression on his face, and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, dude gives me the creeps.”

“How so?”

“I dunno,” Murphy shrugged, holding the potstickers above his head as Clarke tried to make another grab for one, “just does.”

* * *

 

It was along Clarke’s walk, on the way home one friday, that she realized it was her birthday. 

_ Yes. She’d forgotten her own birthday.  _

But, that didn’t seem to hurt the most. Clarke’s mom called her the night before, telling her she’d be on trauma call the following morning, and told her all of her loving sentiments ahead of time. 

Clarke’s social media, though, was silent. 

And in her rush for classes, she hadn’t checked her email to see the offers lined up for the special occasion from various companies and eateries. 

But, Lexa? 

It wasn’t like Alexandria Woods to forget her birthday. 

In fact, Alexandria Woods remembered exactly how many days (And hours) it had been since they’d shared their first kiss. 

But Lexa hadn’t said a word to Clarke. She was up and gone before Clarke was even awake, leaving a note and a little breakfast. They didn’t have psychology together, either, so Clarke didn’t see her there. 

In fact, Lexa had texted her saying, “ _ Office after practice, I’ll be home late. I’ve ordered dinner for you. Love you to infinity _ .” 

Clarke had given the screen of her phone a melancholy smile, and continued on with her day, as that was becoming the norm, these days. 

She decided that she could have her own fun with Murphy, at the very least. Calling him up, she groaned when she heard the familiar monotone voice of the answering machine protocol. 

Even Murphy had forgotten. 

Clarke blinked back tears.  _ Birthdays were unimportant _ , she lectured herself. She didn’t need to celebrate a non-achievement. 

Or, so she told herself. 

Clarke sadly ascended the stairs to their apartment, bag heavy, and heart heavier as she slid her key into the lock. 

Clarke nearly had a fucking stroke when she opened the door and the lights blasted on, a chorus of “SURPRISE” shaking her to the core. Lexa smirked from near the light switch, holding her arms out to a shaky Clarke, who immediately began tearing up, her body shaking with laughter. 

She was  _ stupid,  _ genuinely stupid, to have thought that “Lextra” Woods would forget her own girlfriend’s birthday. 

And those voices- Bellamy, Octavia and Lincoln- Raven and Anya, Murphy-everyone who’d gone to school in the state (save for Bellamy) made an appearance. 

At Lexa’s behest. 

God, Clarke was so, so,  _ so _ lucky. 

“Clarke.” Lexa was chuckling softly, kissing her head. “Happy Birthday, my love.” She whispered in her ear. 

“I...I thought you’d forgotten.” Clarke admitted lamely, clinging to Lexa’s shirt, ignoring her friends all around them. “I’m an idiot-” 

“Shhh, no.” Lexa laughed genuinely, brightly, filling Clarke with joy. “It was all planned. It was very hard to resist cuddling with you and bringing out your cake this morning.” 

Clarke laughed into Lexa’s shoulder, buried safely into her girlfriend’s arms. “Thank you.” she croaked. “I love you-” 

“I love you to infinity.” Lexa mocked her text, grinning, placing a kiss to Clarke’s head. “I really do. And as much as I would love to hold you forever, I worked  _ very  _ hard to bring your friends together.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Clarke blinked hazily, turning to find all of her friends snorting and chuckling with laughter at the success of their grand plan. “Hey...guys.” 

Bellamy grinned and pulled her into one of his trademarked bear hugs, lifting her feet somewhat off the ground in his effort. 

“Missed you, princess,” he grinned, “Woods sweet-talked my dean into letting me play hooky for a week.” Clarke shot Lexa a dazzling grin from Bellamy’s shoulder, to which the other girl responded with a small smile. It meant a lot to Clarke that, regardless of the problems Lexa might have had in the past, she had still gathered them all together for Clarke’s birthday. 

Well, except for― 

“Monty and Jas are kinda preoccupied being geniuses on the other side of the country, they send their apologies,” Raven cut in, squeezing her way between Clarke and Bellamy with a sharp jab to Bell’s side, “and some goodies.” She looked pointedly with her eyes towards a platter of brownies. “Missed you Griffster.”

“I missed you, too.”

After a round of hugs and reunions, they settled, catching up over food and alcohol, eerily reminiscent of their high school days, but without the chaos of Jasper trying to impress girls and Monty trying to rein him in. 

Clarke snuggled into Lexa’s side, soaking up her company as she bantered with Bell and Raven. There was an air of familiarity to it, comfort, and she smiled from her position nestled in Lexa’s arms. 

“God I forgot how much I hated being around you all,” Murphy grumbled, “obnoxious, the lot of you.”

“You know you missed us, Murph,” Bell grinned, arm slung over the sulking boy’s shoulders, “must be so boring around here, with just Woods and Griffin.”

“They traumatize me every single waking moment of my existence,” he deadpanned.

“That I don’t miss,” Raven consented, “all the sappy, lovey dovey grossness.”

“Like you and Ahn aren’t sappy,” Clarke accused, and Raven rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to Anya’s cheek. 

“We’re too badass for sappy,” Raven shrugged.

“Badass,” Anya agreed, and her look left no room for discussion. 

Cake was served after a horrible rendition of  _ happy birthday _ , because Bell’s singing voice in general left much to be desired, but with wine, because they were, to quote Raven,  _ classy motherfuckers.  _

“I distinctly remember you chugging rocket fuel by the ladle a few days ago,” Anya hummed, and Raven rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“That’s in the past, babe, we can’t focus on the past.”

“Oh, so not even―”

“Don’t even start, Griffin, I’ve got  _ so  _ much dirt on you.” 

Even Lexa, with her insane, health-nut diet, indulged in a piece of cake in celebration of the anniversary of the birth of her favorite person in the entire world. As for Clarke, surrounded by her surrogate family and in the arms of her soulmate, with a stomach filled with cake and wine, she was at home. 

     The first month had been hectic, and she knew little of the mountains she and Lexa would have to climb as the year (and their lives) progressed. 

      But, in the words of the dearly departed Jake Griffin, who'd always preached “ _ Don't miss a shooting star because you're too busy looking at the road ahead”,  _ Clarke snuggled just a bit closer to Lexa, and took a breath. 

      The road could wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep speculating, it's pretty amusing to see what you guys are coming up with! To address your concerns: Clexa is (Obviously?) endgame. And what you think happens: Yeah, *that*. It doesn't ;)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College progresses, memories are made, hardships continue, and halloween is right around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids! Welcome back. A note :The actual climax of this story will occur some time after december, SO: what you are reading is the build up. That means things will keep developing, without resolution. This is intentional. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Good afternoon, Lexa.” A financial manager waved in a friendly manner as the prodigal Woods daughter made her way through the halls of the halls of her parents’ building, filled with the echoes of phones ringing, coffee brewing, and idle chatter.

Lexa waved back, trying not to look as exhausted as she felt.

Her schedule was unreal.

From the crack of dawn she was up. Running, coming back to see Clarke for just a sliver of time, classes, practice, then her hours at the office (far later than a good majority of the workers), and then she’d come home, just in time to miss Clarke leaving for her irregular shifts at Dante’s new gallery, with lots of opening parties at night, for socialites.

Lexa scrunched her nose in distaste at the thought of Clarke, stuck there with her undoubtedly dreadful TA (though Lexa hadn’t even met him). She considered calling in a favor to her parents to see if they could pull some strings to land her an invite.

But then she realized it was Clarke’s time to grow, to be away from her, and she just worried her lip instead. She was being irrational.

“Lexa.” The gentle voice of Sinclair, the head of operations in the Los Angeles branch, (and effectively, her boss,) sounded out from his office.

Lexa bowed her head respectfully and entered, tucking a manila envelope under her arm. “Sinclair.”

“Did you file those reports?” Sinclair’s voice wasn’t demanding, rather, curious.

“Yes.” Lexa nodded.

“And the papers from marketing, did you-”

“Already entered into the powerpoint for tomorrow’s conference.”

“Oh.” Sinclair lifted a brow, a little smile on his face. “Then, I have one more favor to ask of you.”

Lexa looked smooth, and ever so slightly cocky as she quipped, “Your personal presentation is already done as well.”

Sinclair looked absolutely blown away. “Wow, well done, Alexandria. Your parents will be pleased to hear about this.”

Lexa nodded, thinking about biting her tongue, but ultimately ruling against it. She leaned her head out, noticing the light in Alie’s office was still on.

_Dammit._

“Sinclair, can I have a word?”

“Hmm?” The man hummed, leaning back in his chair, adjusting a few papers on his desk.

“I know that my parents left you in charge, and I don’t expect that to be overridden for me, either.” Lexa began warily, tugging at the collar of her crisp white shirt. “But I am making an _incredible_ sacrifice by taking this job, along with football, and-” _and I miss Clarke._

“I know, Lexa.” Sinclair sighed. “What are you trying to get at?”

“I just...this isn’t a part time job for me. And while I know I have fewer prospects, in terms of degrees, compared to my...colleagues...If you see that I’m worthy for the promotion, Sinclair, don’t hesitate. I will find a way to balance it all.”

Sinclair looked troubled, throwing an off glance in Alie’s direction, as she appeared behind Lexa, holding a few files in her hand.

“Alexandria, you’re a wonderful asset. But you have a lot to learn. _If_ you show me that you can handle the increasing responsibilities, I will think about it. You’re not out of the running yet. Until then, I need you where you are, alright?”

“I’m sorry.” Alie’s cold, almost monotonous voice sounded. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” Lexa licked her lips, nodding at Sinclair. “I should take my leave, then.”

Sinclair cleared his throat. “It is late.” He agreed, with a glance at his watch.

Lexa barely acknowledged Alie as she sidestepped her and moved to grab her coat and messenger bag, feeling all the remaining energy drain out of her. She was exhausted.

She made the journey down to the parking garage, and got into her car, leaning her head against the wheel momentarily to collect herself, before hitting the voice command option, and demanding to call her parents.

After several rings, and several more hoops to jump through, her mother and father’s voices filled the speaker, the sound of Aden’s faint piano playing in the distance.

She smiled sadly. At least Aden was getting the childhood, rather, teenage years, he deserved.

“Alexandria?” Lexa’s mother filled the speaker. “How are you, dear?”

“Hello, Lexy.” Alex’s voice chimed in, and with the clanging of pots and pans, she could tell they were cleaning dinner.

“And Clarke!” Alex added hastily. “How’s she doing?”

Lexa gritted out a soft, “I don’t know.”

“What?” Ana’s voice was inquisitive. “Are you unwell? Is your relationship suffering?”

“No. Well, yes.” Lexa grumbled. “But only because I have no time to see her.”

“Why is that?” Alexander asked.

“Because of this...menial position you have me slaving over.” Lexa ground out. “I could be doing so much more, if you just gave me the opportunity-”

“Lexa.” Anastasia softened, though her tone was still stern. “Sinclair has been the manager for umpteen years, there. He’s very good at his job.”

“Yeah? Well, to be honest, _mother,_ it’s not really Sinclair I’m not taking a liking to.”

“Oh?” Ana sassed right back. “What is it, then?”

“Alie.” Lexa admitted. “Something feels off about her.”

“Alie?” Alexander hummed. “The head of finances?”

“Yes.” Lexa sighed. “She’s...an interesting choice.”

Alexander chuckled. “Your mother and I know a thing or two about hiring, and running a business, Alexandria.”

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Lexa argued, eyes on the twists and turns of the road. “But I could just as easily do her position, if-”

“Oh, Alexandria, no.” Alex sighed. “I know you’re ambitious, and talented, but you’re so young, and still uneducated. We can’t simply boost you because of your status.”

 _But I’m only doing this for you!_ Lexa wanted to argue, hopelessly.

“I’m not- That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Mom!” Aden’s voice sounded in the background. “Mom, check this out, I finally nailed it!”

“Lexa, honey, we have to go.” Alex sighed. “I know how bright and hardworking you are. You will get through this. Just focus on the task in front of you, and not the one ahead, alright?”

Lexa, annoyed beyond belief, hung up the phone in response.

Oh, she’d get an earful for that later.

But later wasn’t now.

She parked the car once she reached the apartment curb, and made her way upstairs, hoping against hope that Clarke was going to jump out and surprise her.

Clarke could make her feel better, while nothing else could.

Alas, swinging the door open, worrying her lip, she let her gaze become one of disappointment. Clarke wasn’t home.

She sighed, shucking off her coat and bag, pausing at the sight of a candle, lit, on the table- with trays of takeout, still steaming. A note sat on the edge of the table.

Lexa moved forward, mouth slightly open as she read the note:

_Lex,_

_I’m not going to be home for dinner, but I know how tired you’ll be when you get home. I got some (healthy) takeout on the counter, and I had Murphy deliver it and light the candle a few minutes before you arrived. Please eat and get some rest, and Alexandria, do_ _not_ _stay up for me, okay? You need rest, baby._

_Love you._

_-Clarke_

Lexa didn’t know whether to feel touched, miserable, excited, or exhausted. Clarke was an absolute angel. She adored her girlfriend. She just wanted to _see_ her.

She sighed and pulled up a chair, admiring the candle. It made her heart tingle. Clarke was always so selflessly thinking about her, and it seemed as if their love grew more desperate with each day passing.

She ate her meal in thoughtful silence, refusing to turn on the TV, or scroll her social media. She rested, mentally, at least, before cleaning up and moving to the bedroom, to get started on her psychology homework. She grimaced when she looked at the clock: it was already ten.

She changed into one of Clarke’s extra large hoodies, enjoying Clarke’s scent wash over her. She sat behind the desk with a resigned sigh.

So far, college was not as enjoyable as she’d hoped.

* * *

“Lex.” Clarke’s voice called throughout the apartment, with no response. “Lex?” A little more hurriedly. “Alexandria!”

Clarke hurried stumbled into their room, heels in hand, in a dress that made her look elegant and refined beyond her years. “Lexa! Why aren’t you answering me-”

Lexa’s head flew up from where it was pressed against the keys of the laptop, blinking hazily. “Wha?” She mumbled, eyes adjusting,

Suddenly, forest green eyes widened when they recognized the love of her life, standing before her, worry coloring her face.

“Oh my god.” Clarke whispered, dropping her heels, coming to cradle Lexa’s head. “Lexa, did you fall asleep?”

“No.” Lexa lied lamely, brushing off the worry. She stood, eyes taking Clarke in. “You look stunning, Clarke.” She whispered, and Clarke felt a familiar heat bloom onto her cheeks.

“Not two minutes awake and you’re already flirting.” Clarke murmured with a smile, cupping Lexa’s cheeks. “Are you okay baby? Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

“I did our psychology homework.” Lexa replied softly.

“Both of ours?”

Lexa nodded. “Sorry it took so long to-”

Clarke cut her off, pulling her down for a searing kiss, Lexa melting into it immediately, Clarke’s faint lipstick coloring her lips slightly, giving them a rosy hue.

“Thank you, for dinner.” Lexa added, quietly, Clarke’s hands tangling in her hair.

“You’re welcome.” Clarke brushed it off like it was nothing. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” Lexa groaned when Clarke’s hands slid up the hoodie, pleasantly noting that she was wearing nothing beneath it. “How was the...what was this, the third grand opening?”

“Something like that.” Clarke grumbled when Lexa tugged her over by the bed.

“Can I help you?” Lexa husked, hands sliding down to Clarke’s hips, arms wrapping around her.

“Mhmm.” Clarke sighed in bliss, leaning back into Lexa’s embrace as she unzipped the dress.

Lexa was gentle as she brought the dress down, letting it pool at Clarke’s ankles as she stepped out of it.

“Gorgeous.” Lexa hummed, causing Clarke to blush as Lexa dropped several kisses to her exposed neck and back, before moving to grab something for Clarke to wear. “A shirt?” She asked.

“Yours. The big one.” Clarke pleaded softly, and Lexa nodded, bringing it over, slipping it over Clarke’s head, and then pulling her close.

The two met in a soft kiss, full of mutual want and adoration.

“Thank you, sleepyhead.” Clarke tugged Lexa towards the bed, pulling Lexa on top of her.

“My pleasure.” Lexa’s charm wasn’t lost, even though she was barely awake.

Clarke kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, drawing the ruffled covers over them.

“I miss you so much.” Lexa whined in her neck, wrapping her arms around Clarke as she moved to spoon her, hands resting unsuspiciously over Clarke’s chest.

“I miss you more.” Clarke murmured, brushing her lips against Lexa’s hand. “I barely see you.”

“I won’t run tomorrow morning. We can...reunite.” Lexa’s voice, dripping with her exhaustion, also had a flirtatious tone that was reminiscent of the cocky footballer Clarke had first met.

“Yeah?” Clarke chuckled, entirely amused. “Alright, _Commander.”_

Lexa grinned lazily, giving Clarke an appreciative squeeze before murmuring a soft, “I love you, Clarke.” Her tone turning solemn.

“And I love you.” Clarke sighed tiredly, feeling Lexa already fall asleep behind her, arms protectively wrapped around Clarke, breathing softening.

* * *

Clarke woke up to, surprisingly, a warm bed.

Warm, because her girlfriend was still in it. _Surprisingly._

Clarke stirred a little, and grinned when she felt Lexa pull her back against her with a soft grunt of protest.

“Good morning, Clarke.” She purred, her voice scratchy and sexy as she pressed her lips to Clarke’s neck, exposed to her.

“Morning Lexa.” Clarke echoed, closing her eyes, reveling in the feeling of her girlfriend, wrapped around her. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I keep my promises. Especially to my wife.” Lexa teased with the term, and it gave both girls butterflies. _Someday._

“God, your voice.” Clarke groaned silently.

“What is it?” Lexa replied with curiosity.

“I just...It sounds extra good. I guess, we haven’t seen each other, and we’ve been texting, mostly, and I missed it. Is that stupid? Do I sound incredibly stupid?”

Lexa was smiling widely, blushing all the way up to her high cheekbones. “Well then.” She declared in her throaty tone. “I should probably put it to good use and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

“I just woke up, Lexa.” Clarke scoffed, getting up with a smile and rosy cheeks.

Lexa pulled her back down so she was facing her, Clarke yelping in surprise as they met in a kiss, Lexa’s hands instantly sliding up Clarke’s oversized shirt.

Clarke sighed blissfully into the kiss, falling in love with Lexa all over again, with each press of their lips, accompanied by breaths of air.

Lexa pressed her forehead to Clarke’s.

“God. You’re stunning.” Clarke whispered, raking Lexa’s forested gaze, down to her high cheekbones and cutting jawline, to the freckle on her lip. “It’s like I’ve forgotten how beautiful you are…” She trailed her fingers against Lexa’s cheek, enjoying the way she blushed furiously. “You know what I adore?”

“What?” Lexa asked, unable to hide her shy grin.

“That tiny freckle on your upper lip. I love kissing it. Actually, your lips in general, they’re just kissable. So soft, and full….”

“I love you.” Lexa whispered softly, hands raking Clarke’s back gently, provocatively.

“I love you more.” Clarke murmured against her lips. “I want you, now.” Her hands slipped over Lexa’s side, reaching around to squeeze at her firm ass, round and deliciously inviting to Clarke.

Lexa groaned, leaning into her touch. “Clarke.” She warned. The unspoken message was there.

_Don’t start something we can’t finish._

“Class?” Clarke sighed.

Lexa nodded, tracing patterns on Clarke’s back. “Or, Griffin, we could... _Skip.”_ She popped the “p” with emphasis, sending shivers down Clarke’s spine.

“You can’t skip class.” Clarke protested. “Your reputation as a student athlete-”

“Is not nearly as important as showing my girlfriend how much I...n _eed_ her.” Lexa answered readily, placing a suckling kiss on Clarke’s neck, drawing out a moan from the blonde.

“Don’t you like being bad, Clarke?” Lexa teased, worrying Clarke’s skin with her teeth, careful to leave a faint mark.

The thought of Lexa marking her had Clarke on another level of bliss altogether.

“It _has_ been a while since we….” Clarke gasped when Lexa wet a spot on her collarbone with her tongue, only to chase it with her sinfully luscious lips.

“Clarke Griffin…” Lexa tsked. “It has been almost two weeks since I-” she slipped her hand down to the front of Clarke’s underwear, with a bold rub, “-have _pleasured_ you.”

“You’ve been counting too?” Clarke sighed, betraying her studious self as she began grinding against Lexa, glancing down at her abs, feeling another clench as she did so.

“God yes.” Lexa replied, nipping at Clarke’s ear.

“Good. Then let me do the honors.” Clarke grinned, lust taking over as she pinned Lexa back, moving to sink below the covers, but not before palming Lexa’s breasts, teasing each erect nipple through her nightgown with a pinch, enjoying the gasping moan it drew from the brunette.

Clarke dropped kisses to her abs, lifting the night dress so she could rake her fingernails against the sixpack, soothing the trails of red with kisses.

Lexa was almost writhing as Clarke dropped wet kisses to her abs, worshipping them, murmuring, “You’re so perfect, Lexa. You’re amazing.” She directed her attention to Lexa’s thighs, dropping luscious kiss after kiss between them, on the inside, marking Lexa up a little with a few predatory low growls from her throat.

“You’re gonna be my good girl and do as I say?” Clarke taunted, rubbing her thumb teasingly over Lexa’s panties, watching the way her hips bucked.

“Yes.” Lexa groaned, burying her hands in Clarke’s golden mane.

“Good girl.” Clarke grinned, licking her tongue over the fabric of Lexa’s panties, enjoying the soft, needy cry from her lips. “Mm, someone’s already wet.”

Lexa pushed her hips into Clarke’s mouth, and Clarke chuckled against her, the vibrations setting Lexa off even more.

“Clarke.” She gasped. “Please…”

“Please what, pretty girl?”

“Please...fuck me with your mouth, Clarke. Your tongue, your fingers, you...your…”

“Okay, baby, I got it.” Clarke chuckled once more. “But...a little foreplay, first, I mean…” she smirked, tugging Lexa’s panties up against her folds, rubbing deliciously teasingly against her clit.

Lexa’s cry was loud enough to echo in the room.

Clarke took that as her cue to removed Lexa’s soaked panties, peeling them down the leggy expanse of her body. Clarke dropped kisses along Lexa’s soft legs, appreciating them as she moved back up, lazily thumbing Lexa’s clit, just enough to tease, not enough to satisfy.

“Clarke.” Lexa growled.

Clarke grinned. “Someone’s impatient.”

“ _Please.”_ Lexa whimpered, and Clarke’s heart couldn’t take anymore of the cruel act.

“Alright baby. Lean back, relax.” She pressed an open mouthed kiss to Lexa’s soaking folds, dragging her tongue through them, smiling faintly at the familiar taste of her girlfriend on her lips.

Lexa rolled her hips, trying to grind against Clarke’s kisses as Clarke slowly moved her tongue down to Lexa’s entrance, teasing just a bit.

“Alright, ready?” Clarke warned softly, moving to slip two fingers into her shivering girlfriend.

Lexa was a beautiful, gasping mess on top of the sheets, her green eyes blown, her body rocking into Clarke’s rhythmic thrusts, her breasts swaying with each jerking motion. Her plump lips formed an “o” as Clarke pumped into her, whispering passionate words of affection as she occasionally kissed Lexa’s thigh, otherwise sweeping her tongue through Lexa’s folds.

“You like that?” Clarke asked teasingly, curling her fingers slightly against Lexa’s front wall. “I love the way you take my fingers, Lex. So good. So _tight._ You’re soaking, baby. Dripping all over me.”

Lexa whined, rolling her hips a bit harder, begging for more contact. Clarke slowly slipped in her third finger, pumping slowly at first, adjusting Lexa before moving full throttle again.

“You gonna be a good girl and come for me, Lexa?” Clarke demanded, mimicking Lexa’s commanding facade when she would pleasure Clarke.

Lexa groaned in response. “Mmm, Clarke, I’m...I’m…”

Clarke could feel Lexa tightening around her as she deepened her thrusts, now fully curling her fingers in efforts to the spot against Lexa’s front wall.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Clarke mumbled. “My sexy girl-” She pulled Lexa’s clit between her lips, sucking fervently, first feeling Lexa tighten completely around her hand, then the telltale gush of wetness and the pleasured scream as Lexa’s body stilled, clamping down on Clarke.

Clarke continued rocking into her, murmuring, “That’s it, come for me baby. Fuck, Lexa, you look so beautiful when you come for me like that.”

Lexa was seeing stars, blinking hazily as she took the last of Clarke’s pumps, easing her down from her high.

“Here.” Lexa panted breathlessly, and Clarke crawled up, right after she was finished lapping away at her mess. Clarke licked her fingers, sending a fresh jolt of aftershock down Lexa’s spine, as Clarke watched, grinning devilishly.

“Clarke.” Lexa groaned, hands resting on her abs, her whole body numb. “That was...You were…”

Clarke smirked, finding breathless Lexa to be particularly adorable. She kissed Lexa’s jaw, then her lips, watching Lexa taste herself on her tongue. “Love you.” Clarke whispered quickly.

“Love you too,” Lexa whispered right back.

“My turn?”

“Your turn, love.”

* * *

 

Clarke’s psychology class droned on and on, as she and Lexa scribbled down their notes, sitting beside each other, a bit too closely for the average class partners.

Clarke sighed softly as she gazed at Lexa, hair brushed over her shoulder, flowing in soft, almost-curls. She was the picture of beauty- her jawline sharp and tight as she worked it in annoyance, whenever the lecturer moved a bit quickly. Her long fingers were tapping away at her laptop keyboard.

Notes were especially vital, considering they’d missed the last session for some much needed intimacy.

But of course, that went as quickly as it came, and the barriers were back in their way.

“And of all the relationships we study, perhaps the most nurturing, besides the familial ties of parents and grandparents, are in fact, best friends.”

Clarke’s ears perked up at that.

“What are best friends?” The lecturer continued. “And what separates them from the crowd of acquaintances we come to know in this life? Well-” he clicked his remote and the powerpoint slide changed, a series of fresh keyboard clicks and scribbles filling the lecture hall. “What we know to be characteristics of this relationship are simple. First, the connection must be stronger than that of your other friends. For one, the intimacy. No, I don’t mean romantically, though, some claim their best friends are their partners.” He rubbed his chin momentarily.

Lexa turned, smiling to Clarke at those words, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Clarke felt her whole body tingle at the sensation, she couldn’t help the little grin that escaped her lips.

The lecturer continued, chugging along.

“Now, this is a common issue of controversy among sociologists. I know this is a psychology class, but for god’s sake, people, let’s delve a little, shall we?”

The class mumbled some zombified form of agreement, happy to take a break for their aching wrists and cramping hands.

The professor paused, glancing into the audience. “I, personally, disagree. I don’t think your best friend can be your partner. Why, you ask?”

No one asked.

Clarke’s smile dropped, as did Lexa’s.

“Well, for one thing…” The old man began with a wry smile. “We place different expectations on our partners than our friends, yes?”

Someone shouted a “no!” from the middle row, and Clarke’s eyes lit up. Maybe he was wrong, afterall.

“No?” The lecturer smirked amusedly. “Would you expect your friends to dote on you? To buy you things? To constantly be thinking of you, every day? Physical intimacy- While I know that not all of us partake in it, for whatever the reason, and all are valid- physical intimacy is not something we expect from friends. And yes, this time, I mean it romantically.”

“Sir.” Lexa spoke up, nearly startling Clarke. “Why is it that we can’t merge these expectations?”

“Ah, Ms. Woods. What an excellent opening game, congratulations.” The professor nodded in approval.

“Thank you.” Lexa dipped her head in gratitude, still waiting for her answer.

“Well, you see- once you start merging these expectations, the relationship is confused.” He pressed. “We tend to categorize our relationships, our emotions, the people we know- into these...boxes. These categories. For instance- we know that, when our partners disappoint us, we turn to our best friends for that sort of connection, that support. When your partner _is_ your best friend? It cannot be done. You become deprived of that secondary option. You see?”

Lexa nodded, but as soon as he looked away, she was shaking her head. “That’s bullshit.” She mumbled, slipping an arm around Clarke, pulling her closer. “Right, Clarke? I mean, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“....Yeah.” Clarke mumbled softly, refusing to say any more on the subject.  

She tried to take comfort in the fact that Lexa held her for the rest of the class period, giving her soft kisses of reassurance.

She was overthinking it.

* * *

 

“Clarke?” Murphy poked her with his pen, watching her sit at her desk, head buried in her folded arms. “Griffin?”

Clarke groaned in response, glancing up at him with a look of contempt for disturbing her peaceful nap.

“What’s going on?” Murphy asked, twirling his pen between his fingers, having given up on drawing the flower on his paper, destroyed by smudges of lead and fingerprints.

“What’s going on?” Clarke echoed, her voice sounding tired and husky.

“You’re not doing that thing where you stick your tongue out and show up all the other art students with your skills.” Murphy informed her dutifully, leaning back in his seat. “Why the long face, then? Rough night at Casa Woods-Griffin?”

“No.” Clarke answered truthfully.

_Couldn’t be a rough night if Lexa there, right? Well, physically, she was present, but exhausted beyond belief._

“No? What, the boss man giving you a hard time?” Murphy asked, lips curling as he eyed Ilan, who was talking to a group of students by his desk.

“What? Ilan?” Clarke blinked. “No, no, he’s great.”

“Griffin.” Murphy sighed, tugging at the collar of his flannel. “You and I both know you look like someone kicked your puppy and took a piss in your coffee, all at the same time.”

“Gee, you really know how to make a girl feel special.” Clarke mumbled, blinking hazily as the classroom studio’s fluorescent lights filled her vision.

“Not my job, that’s reserved for Emori. And for you, Woods, but something tells me she’s lacking in that department, lately.” Murphy drawled carefully, eyeing Clarke for any sudden changes in her behavior to indicate that he was on the right track.

“John.” Clarke smiled softly, resting a hand on his arm. “Things are great between us, I promise.”

Murphy rolled his eyes, “Not like I care.” He snorted, though it was an obvious veneer.

“Right, you’d be heartbroken if Lexa and I ever broke up.” Clarke snorted.

Murphy watched the way Clarke lit up when she spoke about Lexa. She was the exact same way he was about Emori. It made him feel a great pang of sympathy, realizing that Clarke felt the pain he felt, knowing that Lexa was so close, and yet so far.

“So, what are you and Woods doing for halloween?” Murphy asked, trying to sound disinterested.

“Halloween?” Clarke echoed.

“...Yeah? You two are always….festive. So what’ll it be this year?”

Clarke bit her lip, silence serving as her response.

Murphy blinked. “Well? Spit it out. Or, is it some kinky shit you’re not-”

“I forgot.” Clarke mumbled.

“You forgot?” Murphy repeated, sounding a bit like a broken record.

“Yeah.” Clarke shook her head. She _never_ forgot holidays, let alone one of her favorites like Halloween. Every year, she’d do something extravagant with the delinquents, with themed costumes for the group, raging parties, and crazy hangovers the next day.

And ever since she’d gotten interested in Lexa around Halloween a year ago, she’d dreamed of having a couple’s costume. Sure, it was stupid, but Clarke always wanted a significant other to match with, and she _finally_ had one.

Except she didn’t, because Lexa didn’t have the time.

And Clarke didn’t have the audacity to make any time, for such a stupid, trivial event.

Murphy let out a low whistle. “Maybe things are worse than I thought, after all.”

Clarke sighed, shaking her head as she gathered her books, noting how class was ending. “I’m starving.” She changed the subject, somewhat obviously. “Lunch?”

“What, Woods not wining and dining you?”

“She can’t. Practice. Are you in, or not? I can make a mean pizza at the apartment.”

“Can’t.” Murphy looked royally guilty. “Taking Emori out for an afternoon picnic on the beach.” He paused, looking as if he’d just rubbed salt into the wound. “You could come, though.”

“And watch you two make out and pet each other on the beach?” Clarke laughed, but she didn’t really feel the fake smile on her lips. “Maybe next time.”

“Hey, I suffered through Woods feeling you up!” Murphy called after her, and she waved, at him, and then Ilan, before exiting the room with a sigh, ready to face the harsh truth of the daylight: she was alone.

Tucking her backpack over her shoulder, she turned to make for the apartment, all the way across campus, when her phone buzzed. She glanced down, reading “Wifey” and a bunch of hearts across the screen. She immediately felt her heart skip a beat, (and she ignored the fact that she almost felt _guilty_ that it cheered her up instantaneously).

 

**Hey, beautiful.**

_Hey baby. How’s practice?_

**I’d be lying if I said it was easy.**

**How was art?**

_Busy. I’m so exhausted. I keep_

_Falling asleep in class, lately._

**I’m sorry :(**

**I wish I could say that was my**

**doing.**

 

At that, Clarke laughed softly, imagining Lexa, all geared up, typing away at one of her breaks. She then remembered that Lexa’s time was limited, and it was like another blow to the gut.

* * *

 

**Maybe.**

_That always means yes._

**I can always call in sick…**

**If that’s what you want?**

_No._

_No, it’s okay._

_I’ll see you at home, okay?_

_I love you._

 

Clarke wasn’t entirely sure why something within her snapped the way it did.

She knew it was childish, especially after she’d promised Lexa that she’d support all of her endeavors, no matter how much time it cut away from their relationship.

But god, it was hard.

Clarke was so lost in sheer _curiosity_ of her own emotions, so unable to recognize what she was feeling, that she actually physically bumped into the person before her.

Startled, Clarke leapt backwards, blinking as she moved to apologize.

“I’m so sorry- Luna?”

Luna Rivers was indeed standing in front of her, having just wheeled around at the sudden impact. She looked good: her curls dyed a darker color, her skin looking even more tanned. She glowed. It was the best way Clarke could describe it.

“Hey, stranger.” She dipped her head at Clarke, surprised by the hug she got in return.

“Hey, Luna.” Clarke greeted in awe, as if she’d stumbled upon a gift left for her on the stretch of the campus walkway.

“Long time, huh?” Luna chuckled, running a hand through her curls.

“Yeah.” Clarke exhaled. “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Arkadia.” Luna nodded. “I knew you and Woods were going here- I mean, I’d have to be deaf to miss what they’re saying about Lexa, but still...it’s good to see you.” she softened a bit, towards the end.

Clarke smiled, genuinely. “You too, Rivers. What’s up?”

Luna shrugged, smiling. “A lot. I was actually just on my way to lunch in the cafeteria. You wanna grab a bite to eat, or...Is Woods gonna try to duel me on the table tops?”

Clarke snorted. “Lex isn’t like that.”

“Right, yeah.” Luna laughed, motioning with her hand.

“Actually, do you think we could go back to the apartment?” Clarke tried. “I make a mean pizza...and I can kill two birds with one stone and get some dinner going for Lexa, she’s home late, these days.”

Luna smiled. “I’d love to. We have some catching up to do, it seems.”

* * *

 

“Look at you, all domesticated.” Luna watched from a chair, sitting on it backwards, head propped up on the back as she watched Clarke chop away at some vegetables.

Clarke was surprised at how her pain was alleviated, momentarily. And perhaps not entirely, as there was still a dull thudding of her heart whenever Lexa was brought up, but it was bearable, now that she was distracted.

Besides Murphy, she’d almost forgotten what friendship felt like.

“Me?” Clarke laughed. “I do it out of love.”

“I can see that. Where is Woods, anyway? I kinda miss her shooting a jealous glare my way every ten seconds.”

Clarke smiled sadly. “Practice. And then work.”

“Work?” Luna whistled. “She have a death wish or something?”

“She just likes pushing herself.” Clarke replied slightly defensively, changing the subject. “Anyway, what about you? Sports?”

“Lacrosse.” Luna shot her a cheeky grin. “Starter.”

“Already?” Clarke grinned. “Congratulations, that’s….unheard of.”

“Yeah, I _thought_ I was going to break a record. You know, being a freshman starter. Turns out Woods was named one two weeks prior.” Luna snorted.

Clarke couldn’t help the blush rising up her neck and cheeks, and the pride settling in her gut. That was her girl.

“So, you’ve gone quiet.” Clarke noted, moving to grab a container from the fridge.

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

“I’m not hearing your name thrown around the way I used to. And I know your family is just like Lexa’s. So, what’s going on? Any relationships?” Clarke pried curiously.

“No.” Luna admitted with a wry smile.

“No? Why not? I know girls who would kill to have a chance with you.” Clarke offered encouragingly. “I mean, I would’ve, if…” She trailed off, realizing how offensive it might have sounded. “Oh, that sounded terrible, that’s not what I meant-”

Luna waved it off politely. “Don’t worry, It’s a compliment, as far as I’m concerned.”

Clarke nodded, cheeks burning, as she faced the food. “So...why not?”

Luna took a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I wanted to...separate myself.”

Clarke blinked, pausing her work. “Really? You didn’t seem like the type to isolate yourself.”

Luna shook her head. “I didn’t say _isolate._ I said _separate._ I’m not cutting myself off from the world, I’m trying to find my place in it.”

Clarke lifted the oven door, pulling the pizza pan out with care, nodding to indicate her interest in Luna’s words. “...Can you maybe elaborate?”

Luna smiled. “Think of it like this: You think my name, Luna Rivers, and what comes to mind? I’ll answer for you, tell me if I’m wrong. You think of money. You think of old wealth like Lexa’s, ostentatious parties for socialites. You think of lacrosse. You think of womanizing, and some competitive behavior. Hopefully, you don’t think of me as a bad person, but this much, I’ve gathered.”

Clarke smiled sheepishly. “A little. So? These are the qualities that make you who you are, right? Why change them? Who cares what other people think?”

Luna wagged her finger, voice with a telltale lilt. “Ah, but that’s just it. These aren’t things I _am,_ they’re things I’m a part of. I guess, what I’m trying to convey, is that...I’m still unsure of myself. If I’m not lacrosse captain, or dating someone, then who am I?”

Clarke froze, leaning against the counter.

This felt very, eerily familiar.

The words bounced around in her head, as if they were on the tip of Luna’s tongue, but she never spoke them.

_It’s like you and Lexa, Clarke. What do people think when they think Clarke Griffin? Lexa Woods. For god’s sake, Clarke, you can’t even function properly without her. People don’t know your name, but they know hers. She knows what she wants, and she pushes for it. Who are you, without Lexa Woods, Clarke?_

Her own subconscious tortured her, taunting her with the questions that had been swimming around in her head lately, that could never be formed into words and parsed, until now.

“Clarke?” Luna blinked. “Are you alright? You haven’t said a thing.”

Clarke was about to respond, but she jumped when she heard the key in the door, and then it was suddenly open, Lexa stepping inside, sports bag slung over her shoulder.

 _Again,_ that betrayal.

Her heart leapt out of her chest when Lexa stepped fully into view, still wearing her jersey, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She _missed_ her.

Even after all she’d just realized.

“Lex!”

Lexa’s eyes flitted to Luna, narrowing _ever_ so slightly before they fixed on Clarke, who was moving to greet her. Before she knew it, Clarke’s arms went around her neck, and her arms wrapped tightly around Clarke, welcoming her home.

“Hello, Clarke.” Lexa murmured, her voice dripping with honey-sweet affection as met Clarke’s lips in greeting.

“Hi.” Clarke whispered against her lips. She cleared her throat, pulling away when she remembered that Luna was in the apartment. “I….didn’t know you’d be home.”

Lexa frowned, cupping Clarke’s cheeks. “You seemed upset.” She murmured quietly, but Clarke shook her head.

Luna rose from her seat, extending her hand to Lexa’s, and the two did their little athlete’s clap-hug in greeting. Lexa wore her cautious face, (Clarke dubbed it her “Alpha Personality”), regarding Luna with a wry sense of distance.

Luna looked more amused than anything. “Well, I’ll see you later Clarke, Lexa. Don’t want to intrude on your time.”

Clarke frowned, and Lexa shook her head. “Rivers, you can stay-”

“I have practice.” Luna lied easily, turning to Clarke with a smile. “Nice catching up, Griffin. Stay out of trouble, Woods.”

She slipped out of the open door, shutting it behind her, as Clarke watched quizzically.

“...Why do you two bristle around each other like frightened cats?” Clarke sighed, glancing at the table setting for two, (secretly giddy that Lexa was her new lunch partner instead).

Lexa’s cheeks turned rosy. “Do _not_.” She mumbled, slipping her bag off her shoulders. “I said she could stay, I didn’t think she’d leave. By the way….why was she here?”

Clarke grinned at Lexa’s attempt at being casual when she was so clearly jealous. “I ran into her outside of the art building. I was lonely, I invited her for lunch.”

Lexa frowned. “You’re supposed to call _me_ when you’re lonely.”

Clarke stepped forward, cupping her cheeks. “You were busy.” She murmured, pressing soft kisses to Lexa’s jawline. “That’s _why_ I was lonely.”

Lexa looked guilty suddenly. “Really?” She whispered.

Clarke didn’t want to have that conversation at that particular moment. She changed the subject rather abruptly. “Not that I mind, baby, but how are you home right now?”

“Sick day.” Lexa replied, kissing Clarke’s head.

Clarke felt her heart drop. How many classes could they skip? How many sick days could they call in, before they realized that things had changed?

“I was going to make you dinner, but...guess you’re having pizza today.” Clarke informed her, sliding her hands under Lexa’s jersey to scratch softly at her bare back, just enjoying the feeling of Lexa beneath her hands.

“I could think of a few choice desserts.” Lexa mumbled, leaning down to place a wet kiss to Clarke’s neck.

Clarke laughed, pushing her away. “Food first. You need sustenance, Woods.”

“I need you.” Lexa answered gently, and Clarke’s heart fluttered.

“I missed you too.” She whispered. “Now sit.”

Lexa obeyed, moving to sit at the table, while Clarke brought the plates.

“So….” Clarke thought back to her conversation, and mustered up the courage.

“So…” Lexa drawled, teasing her for acting so awkward around her.

“Halloween is coming. And I was wondering if you wanted to go with me...as…” Clarke spilled the words from her lips before she had the chance to review them.

Lexa smirked. “Are you aware that we’re dating, Clarke? In fact, we’re girlfriends. Which means, you don’t have to ask me out to every special event. We’re _expected_ to go together.”

Clarke smacked her thigh. “Shut up, Alexandria, that’s not what I meant!”

Lexa laughed, soft and melodious, and Clarke’s heart healed instantly.

“I thought...you might have a game.” She admitted shyly. “And I know you have prior commitments, so I didn’t want to assume-”

“Assume.” Lexa replied coolly, taking a sip of water from her cup.

Clarke smiled sheepishly. “But I didn’t want to add to your troubles, Lex, I know how busy you are-”

“Clarke Griffin, the day I turn down a night of fun, on one of my girlfriend’s favorite holidays, is the day she can dump me. Understood?”

Clarke grinned. “Alright. Sorry, babe.”

Lexa took her hand and kissed it, before continuing with her pizza, eating it with silverware, watching Clarke make a face of disgust.

“What?” Lexa defended.

“You are _such_ an uppity princess.” Clarke grinned. “”Really, utensils? Use your hands.”

Lexa cocked a brow. “They’ll get greasy, Clarke.”

“Your hands have been _inside_ me, if you’re about to tell me-”

“Fine.” Lexa grinned, dropping her utensils, moving to grab her slice with her hand.

“Look at that, Alexandria Anastasia Woods, eating like a peasant.” Clarke smirked. “How does it feel, your highness? Beneath you?”

“Oh, I’ll show you what’s beneath me later tonight.” Lexa mumbled teasingly, enjoying the sheer joy in Clarke’s cobalt gaze.

When they were together, everything was perfect. It wasn’t as if their relationship was in shambles. They needed to learn the art of balance, it seemed.

“So, costumes.” Clarke raised the question.

“Harley and Ivy.” Lexa grinned on her bite without looking up.

Clarke did a double take. “What?” she blinked.

“I’m not deaf, Clarke, I know you wanted a couple’s costume. I ordered it a week ago-”

Lexa was nearly knocked out of her chair when Clarke launched into her lap, peppering her face with kisses, causing Lexa to scrunch up her nose adorably, both girls filling the apartment with their laughter.

“I love you, I love you, I love you-” Clarke repeated over and over again, grinning into their kisses.

“I love you more, Clarke.” Lexa murmured. “Sorry I don’t show you enough.”

Clarke shook her head, biting her lip.

Was she being selfish? Was their relationship misleading? Did she rely on Lexa too much for happiness? Did she have her own goals, her own identity?

Everything was racing through her mind, her heart thumping, but she pushed it down.

She pushed it down because Lexa was _there,_ and she’d missed her, and she’d let her love take control of all of her emotions, pushing her rationalism out the window.

She could deal with it all, the following day.

For now, all she knew was that she was happy, and Lexa made her so.

* * *

“Clarke, popcorn?”

“Yes, please!” Clarke called back to Lexa as she laid down, sprawled out on the couch, the movie paused at the very beginning. She’d missed having Lexa so accessible like this.

Tonight, she was going to watch a movie with Lexa, and that was _after_ a few rounds of mind blowing sex. And she knew that was normal, and that was how it used to be.

It made her ache for the simple days in Arkadia, where they’d spend most of their time just being teenagers, making out to old rock albums on Lexa’s bed in her private guest house, exploring each other’s bodies, watching movies in bed, and just…. _lazing_ around with each other.

She used to know Lexa’s face better.

Such privileges were never fully appreciated until taken away, and Clarke understood now. As she waited for Lexa to finish making the popcorn, she pulled out her phone, hoping to catch up with some of the Delinquents and Kru via social media- as was her usual way of keeping up with their lives.

God, she really _had_ taken Arkadia for granted, hadn’t she? All her friends, her girlfriend, and her _mom_ in one place?

Teens really were stupid.

Clarke opened up twitter, scrolling through her feed. First something about politics, something else from Polis’ student body- and then Lexa.

Clarke blinked a few times. Nothing changed. Her feed was filled with Lexa. Mentions of Lexa, #PolisCommander trending in the school community, pictures of Lexa’s first game, and of course- “Woman Crush Wednesday” posts, accompanied by pictures of her girlfriend.

Clarke smirked at the sight, scrolling through the pictures of Lexa. Most of them featured her sweating and working out in some way, and one was even lucky enough to be snapped as she changed her shirt during practice, catching a full view of the abs Clarke lived for.

Clarke laughed softly as she scrolled, occasionally opening up the comments on some posts to see what people were saying about Lexa’s first game.

It was all complimentary...as far as the game was involved. Hell, even as far as Lexa was involved. They loved her. She was on ESPN College’s “Top Athletes To Watch” list. She was a raging success, and Clarke couldn’t have been prouder. “Hey, baby!” She called as her eyes scanned the comments, about to read one out to her proudly.

Instead, her eyes fell upon the words, “Clarke Griffin and Lexa Woods are #goals. If someone like _Clarke_ can land Lexa, we should all have faith.”

Clarke felt an old, familiar feeling within her. Suddenly her mood soured and curdled, and she just wanted to be left alone.

Someone like _her?_

And just which inadequacy of hers were they referring to? Her weight? Her hair? Her grades? Her face? Her personality?

Clarke’s brain began to painfully rack itself for the answers.

It all came back to one, central thought: _Why wasn’t she enough?_

Who did she think she was, coming into Lexa’s life and thinking she belonged?

_No, Clarke. Get yourself together, this is that stupid party at Lexa’s back in Arkadia all over again. You’ve grown. You’re past this. You deserve it._

Clarke repeated the mantra over and over again in her head.

She deserved it.

Still, that didn’t stop her from looking at the comments after.

Her traitorous thumbs scrolled, her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t _stop reading._

“Clarke?” Lexa’s voice was but a distant echo. “Salt?”

Clarke shut her phone off, blinking.

_Be strong, Clarke. Lexa doesn’t need this added weight, and neither do you._

“Please.” Clarke nodded, and Lexa returned with the bowl, sliding her arm around Clarke, locking her into her hold tightly.

“Love you.” Lexa murmured softly, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s cheek, and then temple, offering her an innocent smile, a smile that knew nothing of Clarke’s pain.

And Clarke was going to keep it that way.

And later on in the movie, when the girl died and it was okay to cry, Clarke let out her first couple of tears, allowing Lexa to wipe them and comfort her with soft words and kisses.

Even if it was a lie, comfort for a false reason, it made Clarke feel a little less alone.

* * *

 

For all the grief Clarke and Lexa had individually experienced throughout the week, Halloween was like an oasis of fun.

Why?

In the midst of getting ready for the rager they’d been invited to at Sterling’s, there was a knock at their door. Lexa was in the middle of getting dressed, and Clarke had been checking herself out, so there was no debate as to who had the duty of answering.

They were expecting Murphy, and Emori.

What Clarke wasn’t expecting was the small reunion behind her door, of all her local friends. Murphy and Emori stood in the back, the least attention grabbing. Instead, Raven and Octavia were squealing already about Clarke’s outfit, while Anya and Lincoln made more reserved conversation behind them.

Clarke’s heart nearly burst out of its chest.

“Clarke!” Octavia tackled her alongside Raven, the two hounding her already. They squeezed her in a tight hug, and Clarke sighed blissfully.

_Her family._

“Harley! From Suicide Squad!” Octavia pointed at her outfit, grinning excitedly at the jacket and skirt ensemble, Clarke’s prop bat clattering to the floor.

“ _Sexy_ Harley.” Raven grinned, tapping Clarke’s boobs appreciatively, noting the way Clarke had ditched the white- face paint in favor of smokey eye, keeping the small heart under her eye, her hair into pigtails. “I missed these.”

Clarke blushed, taking in all of their faces. “Hey everyone.” She was released, and then once more enveloped by Lincoln, and then Anya, who hugged her more tightly than she would’ve anticipated.

She’d missed her, too.

“Hey, Griffin. Looking good.” Anya commented wryly, leaning back.

Emori and Murphy waved their greeting, and Clarke grinned at Murphy, who’d worn black leather, his hair slicked. Emori’s black outfit and updo seemed to reveal their goal: Danny and Sandy from Grease.

They looked adorable.

“Where’s Lex?”Anya asked, breaking Clarke’s train of thought.

“I’ll go get her.” Clarke promised, turning on her heel. She went into the bedroom, and nearly bumped into Lexa, who’d been on her way out. Arms wrapped around her, quicker than lightning, to keep her from stumbling. Clarke grinned reflexively, but it intensified when she saw Lexa in her poison ivy outfit.

Her dress was short, green, falling right above her knees, revealing her goddess-like legs. Her hair was parted, over her shoulder, curling beautifully at the ends. Her makeup was dark and complementary, and Clarke’s breath was ripped from her throat as she remembered just how beautiful her girlfriend was.

“Hey, you look-” Lexa was cut off as Clarke pushed her back against the hallway wall, kissing her with fiery need, as her hands slipped around Lexa’s waist.

Lexa whined softly and gave into the kiss instantly, pulling Clarke in by either side of her jacket, leaning into her like a damsel in distress.

Clarke leaned back, pressing her forehead to Lexa’s. “You look gorgeous. Fuck.” Clarke panted, completely out of breath. Lexa blushed instantly, her cheeks turning rosy.

“The glitter is a nice touch.” Clarke whispered, leaning in to pull and tug at Lexa’s plump, swollen from their kiss.

Lexa smiled bashfully, leaning forward to hug Clarke, ever the softie.

“You didn’t tell me you invited everyone!” Clarke suddenly remembered with a grin.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Lexa admitted with a shy smile, and Clarke couldn’t help leaning forward to kiss the dimples that formed on her cheeks.

“I love you.” Clarke murmured. “I love you so much. I don’t know if I tell you enough, or too much, but-”

“I never get tired of hearing it.” Lexa nuzzled her, the two basking in each other’s presence.

“Wow. Still gay as fuck.” Anya smirked from the end of the hallway. “So, Woods, are you two just gonna feel each other up all night? Or do you want to take us to that party you promised?”

Lexa grinned her cocky, slick smile, and Clarke’s knees nearly buckled as they laced their hands together, leaving the apartment, and their struggles, behind, for a night.

* * *

 

“Lexa Woods and Clarke Griffin- Your beer pong champions!” Ryder roared with the approval of the crowd, as Clarke and Lexa laughed, stumbling back to each other’s arms in a tipsy, (maybe a little drunk) mess.

The party had been everything Clarke imagined.

Loud music, crazy college kids, her friends partying by her side, and most importantly- Lexa Woods by her side.

It was funny, how quickly she went from feeling defeated, and tired, to invincible, and madly in love.

She was too busy to ponder the meaning of it all, too wrapped up in the sensory overload. Lexa’s arms, Octavia’s drunken whisperings over the pounding music, Lincoln dancing with her, Anya and Raven so blissfully in love, dancing in the corner.

She felt high, without the drugs, this time.

It was almost as if she’d forgotten how happy she was when she was surrounded by her friends, her family, her _people._

Lexa had proudly introduced Clarke to her teammates, and after a thorough bout of them all checking her out and Lexa telling them to kindly fuck off, she found a soft spot for them as well.

Nothing was as dark as it previously seemed.

At one point, shots had been laid out onto the counter, and Octavia had _dragged_ Clarke and Raven to grab some.

“Tequila!” She cheered, tipsy and gleeful. “Nothing says _I hate my life as a college student_ more!”

“Cheers.” Clarke grinned, moving to clink her shot glass with Octavia’s, despite it actually being a paper cup.

“No, no, Griffin. Off each other.” Raven corrected, reaching for the lime.

“Yeah, c’mon!” Octavia cheered extra loudly. “We all have partners to make jealous.”

Clarke glanced back at the Kru, who were watching with little interest, loudly talking amongst themselves and punching each other’s arms like the jocks they were.

Clarke licked her lips, taking in Lexa’s tattooed bicep.

Her mind diverged. On one hand, her heart softened because god, her girlfriend was absolutely gorgeous and she loved her with all her heart. On the other hand, _God,_ she was dating a _fine_ piece.

“Yeah, I don’t think they care.” Clarke concluded with a cheeky little grin. “If you wanted me to kiss you, O, you just had to ask.”

“Fine, whatever, wrist shots then.” Octavia acquiesced. “But dance with me, you two. I missed you guys.”

“Yeah, Griffin.” Raven pressed. “Life’s not the same when you’re not there to lead us. I actually had to think for myself. It was...disgusting.”

Clarke grinned, moving to lick the salt for her shot. She felt completely blissful, for the first time in a while.

They downed their shots with cheers as they moved to form a little train of sorts, fueled by the shot they’d taken atop their already swimming minds. Clarke leaned back, sandwiched between Raven and Octavia as they danced with the beat of the song that had just started playing. They laughed as they danced, playfully grinding and swaying their hips, partying like they were back in Arkadia, and nothing had changed at all.

Clarke was having so much fun that she didn’t notice the pair of hungry verdant eyes upon her, at first. But with a single upward glance, she found herself smirking, because the three of them had successfully gotten the attention of their partners.

Clarke watched as Lexa licked her lips, fists clenching at her side, a cocky smirk on her lips.

It seemed the Commander was out to play.

Clarke winked and beckoned her forward, and sure enough, Lexa came, slipping her arms around Clarke, stealing her away.

“Are you having fun?” Lexa teased in her ear.

“So much.” Clarke gushed, leaning into her arms.

“I can tell.” Lexa grinned, swaying her hips with Clarke’s, the two laughing uncontrollably, simply enjoying themselves.

It felt honest, real, raw.

Clarke felt the same attraction she had to Lexa before they’d even gotten together.

Clarke glanced back guiltily at her friends, but when she’d noticed Lincoln and Anya sweeping Octavia and Raven away to dance, it was alleviated.

“One more shot?” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s ear enticingly.

“Can you handle it?” Lexa smirked, though her hands rubbed softly at Clarke’s stomach. “I want to make sure you won’t get sick.”

“You kidding? I’m not partygirl Griffin for nothing.” Clarke grinned, reaching over for the lime. “I was thinking, this time...Let _me_ take the shot off you, pretty girl.”

Lexa slipped her arms around Clarke’s waist. “Sounds good.” She smirked, leaning down slightly, feeling the cold touch of the lime on it, and then the salt, before the lime was pressed between her lips.

Clarke kissed Lexa’s neck, licking at the salt as she leaned back to down the shot. With a shake of her head, she leaned back in, biting the lime from Lexa’s lips, using it and discarding it in one swift go, moving back to wash the shot down with the flavor of Lexa’s lips.

The two kissed, the music pumping around them, people laughing and sweating and dancing, some dancing on tables, others mixing ungodly drinks behind the counter.

It was loud, a noisy cacophony, a reminder to Clarke that, no matter how hectic the world around them was, they would be okay. They would survive, and as long as they took time to enjoy each other, they would thrive.

* * *

 

Drunkenly stumbling back into the apartment was nearly the funniest part of the whole evening. Lexa was carrying Clarke, the two narrowly avoiding the obstacles in their path. Raven was already sleeping (and snoring) in Anya’s grip, having decided to try and take on Sterling in yet _another_ drinking competition.

(Raven was later drunkenly named an honorary member of the Kappa Tau Gamma Fraternity for beating Sterling, and consequently, given a free t-shirt. She wouldn’t remember any of it the following morning).

While everyone had been drinking and scandalizing themselves, Murphy and Emori shared a quiet night out on the front porch instead, kissing softly, whispering funny things to each other, and refusing to partake in the “idiocy of it all” per Murphy’s explanation.

They managed to go home without a hitch.

For the others, it was a war to crash on Clarke and Lexa’s couch, (As the guest room was still unfurnished, and used as Clarke’s art studio, for the time being). They all settled in on the long, wraparound couch, mumbling insults to Clarke and Lexa for not having made a guest room ready. The only exception was Raven, who was still knocked out, save for her mumblings of “Anya” and “So pretty”, which made the older girl blush like an idiot.

Clarke and Lexa retired to their room barely managing to strip and wash up before collapsing into bed, curled up _so_ tightly into one another’s arms that one would walk in and think the other might float away if not held down.

By four in the morning, a calm sense of peace washed over them all, the apartment fell into a silent bout of sleep.

Hours ticked on, and Lexa couldn’t remember stirring once until nearly ten, where she felt Clarke’s arms wrap around her. She smiled into her pillow and leaned back, groaning happily, contentedly.

“ ‘Mornin. Some abs you got there, Commander.”

That was _not_ Clarke’s voice. Lexa’s eyes shot open, and she found that Raven Reyes was latched to her back. Clarke was snuggled into Lexa’s arms, and beside _her_ was Octavia, latching onto Clarke’s side.

“Hands off the abs, Reyes, those are mine.” Clarke grumbled into the crook of Lexa’s neck, grinning.

“Clarke.” Lexa blinked. “Why are your friends spooning us?”

“Your friends?” Octavia whined without opening her eyes. “C’mon, we’re all friends, here, Lexa.”

Lexa felt a smile twitch at her lips. “Where is Lincoln….and Anya?”

“Sleeping.”

“And you aren’t with them because….”

“Too cold. And you’re damn near a furnace.” Raven supplied.

Lexa sighed glancing down at Clarke. “Your friends are weird.” She mumbled, but amusement was evident in her voice.

Clarke pressed a kiss to Lexa’s chest, right below where her face was resting, and Lexa sighed contentedly in response, closing her eyes.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so while I LOVE the enthusiasm (Seriously, it's great)- I DO have a few things to toss out there before you guys all hit those keyboards with the comments! (and complaints). 
> 
> For all of you guys who sense that "something isn't right" or "something feels off": Yes. It's *supposed* to feel that way. There is a plot cooking here, and this is part of how we arrive to that peak point. I see a lot of comments like: Well, this could be avoided if Clarke just talks to Lexa! Or Lexa's not paying attention, etc... Listen, kids. This is called conflict. Clarke doesn't feel like she can tell Lexa anything without getting in the way, Lexa needs to find balance. This is part of the PLOT. Sam and I are AWARE of this. I know you guys are fluff-spoiled with CMIF, but this is a bit more realistic. 
> 
> Secondly: We're not doing the cliche "I saw so and so plant a kiss on you before you could react and I think you're cheating on me" thing so R E L A X. Just let Sam and I weave this one along, huh? 
> 
> But really- I'm thankful for all the support, the comments, and all the good stuff! It's a story about learning, growth, realizing that things might not be optimal, and learning to better situations. Hopefully you'll all like it! Thanks for reading and commenting! <3


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Enjoy!

Throughout high school, Clarke had heard the horror stories of the faculty and past graduates of the personal hell known as midterms. At Arkadia, while some teachers had set midterm exams for their students, there was usually class time dedicated to review, and Clarke had the company of the delinquents to get her through the few tests she had. She hadn’t believed the magnitude of which midterms hailed death and destruction. 

She’d come into her first year of college expecting pretty much the same amount of pre-exam panic as Arkadia. 

She had been very,  _ very  _ wrong. 

Clarke set up camp in a relatively sheltered corner of the library with Murphy, the two of them hunched over a collection of art history books and other review material, half-consumed cups of coffee and crushed cans of energy drinks scattered around them, casualties of sleep-deprived, panicked last-minute preparation. 

Murphy glared at a portrait of Van Gogh as though, if he stared hard enough, the book would catch fire and engulf the entirety of the library in flames, sparing the two of them the pain and suffering that midterms had wrought upon them. 

“I’m going to die,” Clarke groaned, sinking into the table. There were dark bags under her eyes, funnily reminiscent of Lexa’s warpaint. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to take a nap curled up next to her girlfriend right about now. That would be  _ bliss _ .

“If you die, Woods will kill me,” Murphy snipped, finally relenting his attempts to beat a painting in a staring contest, “and I’ll have to suffer the presence of pretty boy on my own, so you’re living whether you like it or not, Griffin.”

Despite her exhaustion, Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.

“I still don’t understand why you hate Ilian so much,” she said after a jaw-stretching yawn. In the distance, somewhere else in the library, someone screamed, and Clarke couldn’t help but nod. The noise of distress really resonated with her on a deep and personal level. 

The librarians, who she could spy out of the corner of her eye, didn’t move. Any other day, their eyes would have narrowed and they would have made quick work of kicking the offender out of the book-filled aisles, but midterm season seemed to be the exception to their usually strict demeanors. 

“Nobody should be that self-absorbed,” Murphy muttered, squinting down at a paragraph of text he’d been struggling to comprehend for the past half hour or so, “he made us paint shirtless portraits of him, Clarke. Not even  _ Woods  _ has done that.”

Clarke, privately, considered the merit of painting a nude portrait of Lexa, but quickly cast the idea aside. She wouldn’t be able to focus on painting when her very gorgeous, naked girlfriend was in front of her, anyways. 

“Speaking of Woods,” Murphy blinked owlishly, as though the thought had just come to him, “wasn’t she here earlier? I could’ve sworn she was here. Where’d she go?”

“She left to go work a shift at her internship while you were passed out on Rivera,” Clarke recounted after a moment trying to remember exactly when her girlfriend had left, “about six hours ago? I think?”

“She went to  _ work?” _ Murphy gaped, sleep deprived mind too hazed to comprehend it. “On like, what, three hours of sleep?”

“I think she only got two,” Clarke frowned, rubbing at her tired eyes. 

“Your girlfriend is  _ insane _ , Griffin.”

“She’s just…” Clarke trailed off, unsure of how to defend Lexa in this situation. Quite frankly, it was insane, as Murphy had said. Lexa was inhuman. “...driven?”

“Insane,” Murphy repeated, slowly, before his head fell back in his textbook, and within a few minutes Clarke could hear soft snores coming from his general direction. 

Before she could consider taking a brief nap herself, Clarke’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fished it out, opening a text from the delinquent groupchat. 

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ Linc and I went to study w Rae and Anya. _

_ It’s insanity.  _

_ Holy shit.  _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ What happened? _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ Raven brewed her coffee with a Redbull.  _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ That can’t be healthy. _

_ At all. _

**_BOOM goes the dynamite_ **

_ I can taste colors.  _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ Clarke she’s losing it. _

_ [attachment: one video] _

Clarke clicked on the video, intrigued, and saw Raven scribbling at a speed she didn’t know the girl possessed, across a whiteboard, talking at miles a minute in spanish as she tried to go over a problem. In the middle she paused to sing the lyrics to some kid’s show theme, and Clarke frowned. 

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ You’re saying that as though Rae was ever sane. _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ This is a whole different level.  _

_ She just proposed to Lincoln with a jar of peanut butter.  _

**_Thing One_ **

_ She did it too??? _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ WHAT DO YOU MEAN TOO? _

**_Thing One_ **

_ Jas decided he needed extra energy to study for his chem midterm. _

_ He’s been talking to our houseplant for an hour.  _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ Are you sure he isn’t high??? _

**_Thing One_ **

_ He’s not.  _

_ I wish I was high.  _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ No smoking and studying you know that doesn’t end well.  _

_ Also: HA! MIDTERMS! _

_ Idk them what’s their story.  _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ Bell.  _

_ Kindly shut the fuck up. _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ I will personally fly to London and kick your ass. _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ Well I can see where I’m not wanted. _

_ [The Better Blake has removed Grandmother Ethel from the chat] _

_ [Thing One has added Grandmother Ethel to the chat] _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ Monty you traitor. _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ And this is why Monty is my favorite. _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ If I throw myself in front of a bus I won’t have to take midterms, right? _

**_The Better Blake_ **

_ They’d probably make you take it in the hospital.  _

_ The sadists. _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ Where’s Murphy? _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ [attachment: one image] _

_ Sleeping Beauty is taking a nap/ _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ Draw a dick on his face. _

**_Thing Two_ **

_ SHGSLFKGVSKGHS _

_ [attachment: one audio clip] _

**_Thing One_ **

_ Don’t open that. _

_ It’s thirty seconds of Jasper screaming.  _

_ I’ve taken his phone away from him.  _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ Everyone put your phones away and study. _

**_Dan Clarkey Your Bobbies_ **

_ Okay mom. _

**_Grandmother Ethel_ **

_ Don’t take that tone with me young lady. _

Clarke rubbed at her eyes before fishing her psychology textbook out of the growing pile of abandoned study materials. 

“Why did I even come to college?” she asked herself. “I should have just sold my organs on the black market for profit.”

“I prefer my girlfriend in one piece, thank you very much.” Clarke physically melted into Lexa’s arms when they wrapped around her waist. 

“I missed you,” Clarke whined, and Lexa laughed softly when she pressed a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. 

“Missed you too, sunshine.” Clarke smiled at the familiar nickname as Lexa moved to the seat next to her, left hand quickly capturing Clarke’s right. 

“How long has he been out?” Lexa asked, motioning with a nod of her head towards Murphy, who was still snoozing. 

“Only like fifteen minutes,” Clarke sighed, using her free hand to rub at her eyes. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“I took a thirty minute power nap in Sinclair’s room during break.”

“He let you? That’s sweet.”

“He took the day off and I broke in. He’s got a couch in there.”

Out of nowhere, Murphy jolted awake, pulling his head up from his book with such force that his chair toppled backwards, taking him with it. 

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

Clarke and Lexa did their best to stifle laughter as Murphy glared balefully at the offending chair in question, and his outburst earned a stern look from the direction of the librarians. Apparently, they still had problems with cursing, not even midterms could get rid of that. 

“You alright there?” Lexa asked innocently while Clarke yawned. 

“Fuck you, Woods,” Murphy sneered as he tried to gather what little dignity he had left, moving to sit once more. 

“Hands off my girlfriend, please,” Clarke quipped, and he rolled his eyes at the two of them. 

“I hate the both of you,” he muttered mutinously under his breath. 

“I brought more coffee,” Lexa interrupted, pulling cups from her bag that Clarke hadn’t seen. 

“I’ve changed my mind I love you,” Murphy grabbed at his cup protectively, cradling it close to his chest in a manner reminiscent of the way Gollum held the ring in Lord of the Rings. He groaned when he took a sip of the glorious caffeination. “Marry me.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Lexa responded, smiling at Clarke, “I’ve already promised to marry someone else.”

“Quite being gay and ruining my moment.”

After getting situated and once more replenishing their bodies with the much needed caffeine, the three set about actually making attempts at studying. Even Lexa, who took great pride in her composure, was coming apart at the seams ever-so-slightly. 

The dark bags under Clarke’s eyes were mirrored in Lexa’s own, only deeper and shade and more sickly looking, as though she’d gotten a swift punch to her nose. The three of them together looked like a merry band of raccoons. 

Clarke frowned when she stole occasional glances at her girlfriend, alternating between cursing under her breath in trigedasleng at her economics textbook and frowning at psychology. On top of the exhaustion of midterms week studying, her shoulders were stooped, and she looked like a light gust of wind could topple her over at any minute. Her schedule hadn’t lessened at all, and Lexa, ever-stubborn, refused to bend and raise a white flag. 

Clarke worried that it would be her undoing. 

She pushed those thoughts away, though, instead trying to focus her energy on passing her classes and maintaining her scholarship. 

A few more hours in, they were joined by Lexa’s teammate, Luke. 

“Is that art history?” he asked, nodding at Clarke and Murphy’s work. “My brother took that class a few years ago and he has a study guide for the midterm. Do you want it?”

“Woods, I’ve changed my mind, I’m in love with  _ him _ .”

“Glad to know I’m so easily replaceable, Murphy.”

By the end of the day, Clarke’s eyes felt as though they were about ready to fall out of her head, and the others around her looked no better. 

“I think we should call it a day,” Lexa yawned, “and reconvene tomorrow?”

“I need sleep,” Murphy agreed, swaying on his feet. “ _ Bed _ .”

Clarke nodded, fighting to keep her eyes open, but they were just so  _ heavy _ , and she slowly drifted off into darkness. Vaguely, she could feel strong arms wrap around her, feel herself be lifted off the chair and into the distance before she could no longer feel anything. 

She woke a few hours later to find herself on her bed, curled up with Lexa, whose hand had made its way under Clarke’s shirt as the two of them slept. She felt warm and protected, and nestled closer to the soft familiarity of the love of her life before once more drifting to sleep. 

Midterms could wait till tomorrow, for now, she just wanted to soak in the experience of sleeping entangled with the woman she loved, warm and safe and  _ whole _ .

* * *

 

 

For all the initial excitement over her internship at The Mountain, Clarke didn’t have many interesting things to do while she was there. 

For the most part, affairs and upkeep were maintained by Ilian, who worked as a manager of sorts, and Jordan Vie, who was one of Dante Wallace’s close associates. Clarke’s job, for the most part, was menial work like making sure the paintings were in order, new shipments were taken care of, running social media and arranging for the publicity for viewing events, and taking time to explain to viewers the origin of the pieces they were viewing. 

In the dwindling hours when only a few people―regulars, usually, who didn’t need Clarke’s rehearsed spiel about why a specific artist chose a medium for their piece―she had time instead to go into one of the break rooms and work on her own art. Ilian had been incredibly generous in setting up a workplace for her, understanding the need to finish her assignments for class―he  _ was  _ her TA, after all―and had accommodated her accordingly. Easels and sketchbooks and vast expanses of paints and charcoals filled the room, and Clarke revelled in working here. 

There was something about being surrounded by art that fueled her creative energy. It was as though all the artists from the paintings throughout the gallery were with her, urging her hand along her canvas and coaxing out the artistic genius within her. 

That, or just all the fumes from the paints she was using. 

Currently, in their art class, they were working on the anatomy of the human body, using different mediums to capture the form and elegance of humanity in simple terms, in flesh and blood. In class, they’d practiced using Ilian’s shirtless chest―something that Murphy had complained about endlessly―but for her own project, she was, of course, using her own personal greek goddess as her study.   

On her canvas, charcoal outlined Lexa’s bare back, a modest study of her in an early moment of waking, turning away from Clarke after a long night of lovemaking to start her day, arms stretching above her head as her back arched, revealing the dimples below her spine. Messy tangles of curls draped down her back like a waterfall, and she looked at peace amidst the bustle and insanity her life had become. 

It was only a quarter of the way finished, none of the shading complete, but Clarke thought it was one of the best pieces she’d ever made already. 

“Morning,” her attention was drawn away from her work when Ilian entered the room with a whistle and his familiar sing-song greeting. Clarke noted that he sounded particularly cheerful today, and she smiled in response. 

“How’ve the crowds been so far?”

“It’s a Tuesday, so pretty slow,” Clarke responded, “only a few regulars streaming in and out. Some pretentious-looking guy named Jason came in and tried to teach  _ me  _ about the history behind a few of the paintings, since he assumed I obviously couldn’t know anything.”

“Ah, art snobs,” Ilian chuckled, “gotta love them.” Some people just didn’t know how to shut up, but Clarke supposed that trying her patience would help refine her people-skills for later in life. From the horror stories Octavia had recounted over working part-time in retail, Clarke had it relatively easy. 

“So you survived midterms?” Ilian continued, making small-talk as he walked around the room, humming to himself softly. 

“Barely,” Clarke laughed, “I was surviving on two hours of sleep, caffeine, and blind faith.”

“It’s certainly a rude awakening from high school, I’ll admit.” His eyes scanned over the expanse of Clarke’s work and he frowned for barely a moment―an action so quick Clarke would have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention―before sitting down at a stool opposite of Clarke with a blinding smile. “Not that you have anything to worry about, I took a peek at your written midterm and you passed with flying colors, not that I expected anything different.” His eyes twinkled. “You  _ are  _ the shining star of the class, after all.”

Clarke’s cheeks colored involuntarily as they always did when she was offered any sort of praise, and she looked down on reflex. 

“And your midterm piece? The watercolor ship crashing to earth? It was amazing.” 

She’d spent so long trying to get the colors right, the greens of the trees bleeding into one another seamlessly, mimicking the shade that she stared into night after night. It was representative, to her, of the way her life had collided with Lexa’s, of how she had crashed and expected disaster but instead had been encompassed in the coaxing warmth of love and flourishing  _ life _ .   

“Thank you,” she conceded, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d go out of my comfort zone, charcoals are more my scene.”

“So I noticed,” he agreed, nodding at what she was currently working on, “it’s coming along nicely. Our resident commander, if I’m not mistaken?”

Ilian had seen Clarke and Lexa together on many occasions, what with Lexa’s innate desire to pick Clarke up from class and ‘ _ establish dominance’ _ or whatever it was she felt the need to do. Something about the art TA triggered the overprotective peacock within Lexa, and it amused Clarke as much as it confused her. 

Ilian was just being nice, after all. There was nothing for Lexa to worry about. 

“Her schedule must be intense,” Ilian continued after a moment of silence, pursing his lips, “what with her trying to balance working at her parents’ company, football practice, and all her classes.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agreed, a wave of melancholy sweeping through her at the mention of Lexa’s schedule, which had only lessened their time spent together. “It’s insane.”

“It must be taking quite a toll on you.” It  _ had  _ been taking a toll on Clarke. She missed her girlfriend, missed her easy company, missed the comfort of the two of them simply  _ being  _ together. The long days spent lazing around in their flower field at Arkadia seemed years in the past, and Clarke found herself forgetting more often than not what it felt like to be in the constant company of the woman she loved. “It’s a bit inconsiderate of her, don’t you think?”

Clarke startled at his words. 

“What do you mean…  _ inconsiderate _ ?” There was a degree of hesitance to her tone, an underlying layer of defensiveness at the mere  _ thought  _ that he might be insinuating Lexa was less than amazing, and Ilian doubtlessly detected this and backtracked slightly, though he didn’t stray far from his initial observation. 

“Well, I mean,” he started, “I obviously don’t know much about your relationship, obviously, so it really isn’t my place to say much.”

_ No, it isn’t _ , Clarke thought tersely. 

“It’s just,” he continued, “from what I can see, you put a lot of thought into your schedule and how it affects your time with Lexa. I mean, you specifically coordinated with me your shifts so they correlated with days that Woods had practice, so that you wouldn’t be missing evenings with her.” Clarke had made an attempt to make sure that the two of them were busy at the same times, that way they could come home and spend dinner together, do homework, and curl up together on their own bed. 

“But she just took on all of these additional responsibilities without thinking about how they would affect you first.” Clarke paused at that, doubt creeping up within her. It  _ was  _ a little upsetting that Lexa had just dove headfirst into things without consulting Clarke. She’d known that football would already increase the stress placed on her, and had taken on the additional weight of working at Alexander and Anastasia’s LA branch of the family company. 

Of course, Clarke supported her, Lexa had dreams and aspirations and it was Clarke’s job as her girlfriend to support her in all of her endeavors, and she loved how passionately Lexa attacked personal challenges. 

But she couldn’t help but feel as though she was getting left behind.

“Just some food for thought,” Ilian shrugged, a glint to his eyes that Clarke couldn’t quite decipher, nor did she have the urge too. Her eyes drifted back to her charcoal drawing, of Lexa’s form in the early light of morning, languid and graceful, movements lazy yet somehow poised at the same time. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Ilian stood abruptly and headed to the door. “Do you need anything? Coffee? Fruit?”

“No.” Clarke shook her head, distracted and deep in thought. 

“I hope I haven’t upset you,” he said sincerely, “I was just…  _ worried _ , for you.” There was a genuine concern to his voice that made Clarke look up at him, and she offered a weak smile. 

“Thanks, Ilian―” she paused “―you’ve been a great friend, recently.”

His responding grin was wicked and sharp and all things that Lexa’s wasn’t, and for some reason the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as though she was a deer being cornered by a wolf. 

“No problem,” he purred, voice velvety and smooth, sending shivers down Clarke’s spine, “anytime, Clarke. I’m here for  _ whatever _ you may need.”

He made his exit as quickly as he’d come, and Clarke was left dazed and wondering what exactly was going on. 

* * *

 

“So you just move the probability of x, and then you apply it to- Clarke?” Luna waved her hand in front of Clarke’s face, stirring the blonde from her intense gaze at her inactive iphone screen. 

Statistics tutoring was...bland, to say the least. Luna had been kind enough to offer a hand to Clarke in Lexa’s absence, since the two of them usually worked together on this particular subject. Clarke hated the fact that she needed to take “general education” classes, and the fact that it was math? Even worse. 

And to put the icing on the cake? Lexa was away on a short string of away games, leaving Clarke home alone. 

And she was  _ depressed.  _

Even though she wasn’t really getting to see Lexa on a regular basis, they would always curl up beside each other, exhausted, and cuddle for a short night of sleep. 

She didn’t even have  _ that.  _

She was alone, in their apartment, and she missed her girlfriend. She missed her support, she missed her love and encouragement, and the feeling of safety she felt from just having Lexa in the house, let alone being held in those strong arms. 

So she’d invited Luna over for some last minute tutoring, and though their hour and a half was nearly up, Clarke  _ longed  _ to be free. 

And, in all honesty, she was waiting for a call from her girlfriend. 

A  _ skype  _ call. 

Luna smirked subtly, putting a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “The phone hasn’t even rung, Clarke.” 

“I know.” Clarke blew out a breath. “God, sorry, I don’t know when I turned into such a disrespectful-” 

“Hey, none of that.” Luna shook her head. “I didn’t mean to reproach you, Clarke, I’m not a professor.” 

“Yeah but you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart, and here I am, unable to properly focus…” Clarke sighed. “Sorry, what were we talking about? Variable probability?” 

“That’s...probably enough for today.” Luna smiled wryly. 

“Oh, great, I scared you away too.” Clarke mumbled, running a hand through her hair. 

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Luna shut her book, gathering her pens. “Did you...did you get a chance to think about our talk?” 

Clarke scrunched her nose in confusion. “Our...talk? Oh. Oh!” She blushed suddenly, heart feeling weighed down with emotions she couldn’t begin to explain. “Yeah, I did. And I’m...you’re right.” 

Luna shrugged. “Not really about being right. Food for thought. At risk of sounding cheesy, I want to know- any progress in  _ finding yourself? _ ” 

Clarke looked thoughtful. “I think...I might be so overwhelmed with everything these midterms are throwing at me, that I don’t even know.” 

Luna smirked. “But that’s perfect- don’t high stress situations usually reveal who we really are?” 

“I guess I’m just someone who cries.” Clarke teased, though her tone was a bit dry. 

“ _ You  _ don’t even sound like you believe that.” Luna reprimanded with a smile. 

Clarke shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I have this new job with Ilian-” 

“Hunky art TA?” Luna smirked. 

Clarke blushed. “That would be him.” 

Luna leaned against the wall, folding her arms amusedly. “Woods has met her replacement, huh?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yeah, taunt Lexa all you want, it’s not like that.” 

Luna laughed. “I know. I’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t get me started on her puppy dog eyes for you.” 

Clarke sighed. “I miss her.” She admitted. “I know it’s not conducive to  _ finding myself,  _ or whatever, but-” 

“Hey, I never said that.” Luna corrected. “You can love someone and yourself at the same time.” 

“Right.” Clarke nodded. “Anyway...Yeah. So we’ll see how it goes. I’m doing some...intern work for now. But I think, given time, I might actually get somewhere with this. And with my major? It’d be a blessing to have even a lingering possibility of a job out of college. So that’s great.” 

Luna smiled encouragingly. “That’s amazing, Griffin. I have no doubt you’re going to nail it.” 

“Thanks. And hey- If I don’t bomb this exam, it’ll be solely your doing.” 

Luna hugged her, patting her back. “You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Clarke smiled softly, walking her to the door, murmuring a goodbye. 

She heard her phone begin to buzz, and quickly retreated back into the living room, darting over to pick up the phone. 

Lexa’s face filled the screen. She was sitting cross legged on her hotel room bed, glasses on the bridge of her nose, hair pulled into a bun. She was wearing a spare team shirt, and she looked absolutely  _ gorgeous. _

“Hey, beautiful.” She beat Clarke to a flattering greeting, and Clarke blushed in response. 

“Hi.” Clarke almost mumbled shyly, as if they weren’t going to end up scandalously having phone sex. 

But who could blame them? It’d been  _ two days.  _

“I miss you.” Lexa gushed, sitting back on her bed. 

“I miss you more.” Clarke switched off the lights as she headed back into the bedroom. “New room?” She motioned forward, trying to vaguely gesture at the space Lexa was in. 

“Yeah.” Lexa smiled tiredly. “I get the room all to myself, this time around.” 

“Oh?” Clarke raised a brow. “To call over all your paramours in private?” 

Lexa smiled (And Clarke had to suppress a grin because it was one of her  _ dorky  _ smiles). “My paramours? What is this? A bad soap opera?” 

Clarke shrugged, pretending to be indifferent. “Well, you should hear the way they talk about you on twitter.” 

“They’re just...overly excited.” Lexa replied with a smile, and Clarke felt a pang in her heart. She wanted to tell Lexa about the kind of messages she was receiving. She knew if Lexa said  _ anything,  _ it would lessen the hurt. 

But she wasn’t there to be a ball and chain, a weakness, a hinderance to Lexa’s popularity. 

She could handle a few nasty comments. 

Clarke’s frown must have appeared, however, because Lexa quickly asked, “What’s wrong, Clarke?” Concern flashed over her features. She flipped the camera, showing an empty room, curtains closed, tv on, her clothes casual. “I- there’s no one here, I wouldn’t even-” 

Clarke actually  _ laughed  _ at that. “Lex! Baby, relax. It was a joke.” 

Lexa looked relieved. “Clarke, you didn’t look like you were joking, I-” 

“I’m sorry. My head has been...up in the clouds, lately. I’m exhausted.” Clarke amended. 

Lexa looked entirely sympathetic. “You too?” She murmured. 

“Yeah. Midterms, and school, and not having you here...I’m just tired.” Clarke waved her off. 

Lexa nodded dejectedly. “I can let you go…” 

“No!” Clarke answered, rapidly. “No, baby, not like that. I just...I want to see you. A lot. I miss you, and I hate what this year is doing to us.” 

“Me too.” Lexa nodded. “Season’s heating up soon, and I’m not sure how we’ll fare. If we lose, I can have some sweet uninterrupted time with you.” 

“I’d like that.” Clarke murmured, falling back onto their bed. “Not you losing, or anything, but-”

“I know.” Lexa smiled, and Clarke trailed off. 

She was tired, but deep inside her? She was restless. 

“I...crave you, sometimes. A lot.” 

Surprisingly, Lexa was the first to voice her thoughts. 

The same thoughts Clarke was having. 

“You too?” Clarke asked, smiling, heart thumping. 

With all the flak she was receiving on social media, it felt so  _ satisfying  _ to know she was who Lexa loved, cherished, and  _ craved.  _

“Yes.” Lexa rubbed the back of her neck. “I feel so unprofessional sometimes, but I have these...persistent thoughts, to say the least. And your pictures don’t help.” 

“I do what I can.” Clarke purred. 

“It’s...embarrassing.” Lexa admitted. 

“I want to hear about it, though.” Clarke pouted, and Lexa gave in. 

“Okay, well earlier today…” Lexa bit her lip. “Our trainer came in here to check my knee-” 

“-Which is okay?” Clarke interjected softly. 

“Yes.” Lexa blushed and grinned, heart melting at how concerned Clarke sounded. “-And, the only thing I could think about was the bed. And how much I wanted you in it. I couldn’t hear any of his special instructions on how to ice it because I kept thinking about you, and the pictures you sent me, and-  _ Clarke.”  _

Clarke had slipped her shirt off, smiling smugly when she’d leaned back against the pillows, revealing Lexa’s favorite sight. 

Her unhidden, full chest, held up by a lacy blue bra. 

“Clarke.” Lexa’s throat was dry. “We don’t have to-” 

“I want to.” 

“But-” 

“Do you want to-” 

“God, yes.” 

“You’ll do anything I ask?” 

“Anything, love. And for the record, my answer still would've been the same before you tempted me.” 

Clarke smirked. She loved the power she had over Lexa with a simple view like her chest. Frankly, it was just unfair. 

“Perfect. That shirt? Off.” Clarke instructed. 

Lexa nearly knocked over her laptop as she fumbled to take off her shirt, revealing a beautiful set of toned, tanned abs.

“Oh,  _ fuck.”  _ Clarke whined as she took them in. 

Lexa smirked. “Still got it, Woods.” She mumbled. 

Clarke laughed at that. “Yes, you do.” She approved hoarsely. 

Lexa suddenly yawned, and Clarke couldn’t believe it when she yawned as well, covering her mouth quickly. 

“Oh my god.” Lexa teased. “Did you just  _ yawn  _ at my physique? Is this not enough for you?” 

Clarke stammered. “I...I...You started it! It’s late and-” 

“It  _ is  _ late.” Lexa frowned. 

Clarke blinked, trying to muster up the energy. “But we could-” 

“Baby.” Lexa whispered softly. “This isn’t mandatory.” 

“But...I wanted it.” Clarke whined. 

“Me too.” Lexa chuckled. “I guess I overestimated my energy reserves.” 

“You and me both.” Clarke grumped. 

“Well, we should probably call it a night soon.” Lexa murmured. 

Clarke nodded sadly. “I...I really miss you, Lex.” She admitted, feeling like a loser for saying so. She was immediately soothed by Lexa’s reaction. 

“God, I miss you too. I can’t sleep without you.” Lexa replied sympathetically. “Wait. Clarke. I have an idea.” 

“Okay?” Clarke queried. 

“Let’s just...talk.” 

“About?” 

Lexa smiled wryly. “Nothing at all.” 

“Nothing?” Clarke blinked. “Isn’t that...awkward?” 

Lexa sighed romantically. “Clarke, I could stare at your beautiful face in utter silence and it’d still make my night.” 

Clarke blushed furiously, heart thumping in her chest. 

“...Also, we’re  _ way _ past the awkward silence stage.” Lexa grinned, and Clarke laughed melodiously, causing Lexa’s heart to stop at the sound. 

“Alright…” Clarke grinned, stretching out on the bed, noticing the way Lexa eyed the milky expanse of her stomach, peeking out from under her shirt. 

“Tomorrow.” Lexa whispered, referring to when she’d see Clarke again. 

“Tomorrow.” Clarke agreed quietly. “Now, baby...my dad always used to talk to me about the stars, at night. The constellations, and their legends, specifically.” 

Lexa grinned, absorbed in Clarke’s every word, entranced by her. “Will you share some with me?” She asked softly. 

“I’d love to.”

* * *

 

Clarke’s week had felt…  _ odd _ . 

Nothing particularly out of the ordinary had happened, no major events worth mentioning, but she had just felt…  _ off _ . There was something thrumming underneath her skin, and she found herself filled with anxious energy. 

Clarke, quite frankly, was homesick. 

She missed the company of her mother, the familiar town she’d grown up in, the subdued bustle of Arkadia and the constant reassuring presence of her friends. God, she missed her friends. 

On countless occasions at her stay in college she’d looked around, waiting for Raven to snark at her, missed the constant noise of Bellamy and Octavia bickering. She missed Monty’s voice of reason and Jasper always riling Murphy up. She missed comfort and familiarity and a sense of  _ belonging _ . 

And she missed Lexa. 

Sure, Lexa was here in Polis with her, but more and more often it felt just as though she was attending a university on the other side of the country. Clarke had figured that, after the pain and suffering that was midterms and trying to prepare after months of procrastination, that there would be some sense of new beginnings, a fresh start where she and Lexa could recuperate and find time to just enjoy being in the presence of one another, as they had so often in the past. 

She’d been naive to think such a thing possible. 

Lexa’s schedule had only found itself busier, what with her trying desperately to prove to her parents that she was capable of taking on more responsibilities, capable of being the perfect heiress and best prospect for promotion. In addition, her practices had picked up immensely, what with Coach Davis making her a starter, and in the light of her success, her popularity amongst the viewers of college football increasing tenfold. Clarke not only had to compete with time to see her girlfriend, but now she was fighting against throngs of screaming fangirls with ridiculous social media accounts and fantasies about Lexa Woods,  _ her  _ girlfriend. 

Logically, Clarke knew that she had nothing to worry about. 

Lexa didn’t even  _ know  _ these people, and Clarke knew for herself how annoyed Lexa got with people who just wanted to be around her for her name and what she represented, not caring an ounce who she actually was, at the core. They cared about Lexa Woods, football player and heiress to a multibillion dollar corporation, but Clarke cared for Alexandria Woods, the beautiful, smart, timid girl yearning for love and acceptance in a world that had continually pushed her aside for something grander. 

But anxiety had no time for things such as logic, and there was an almost constant, niggling worry in the back of her mind, the dark twisting demon of her insecurities and self-doubt whispering in her ear that maybe, just maybe, Lexa was outgrowing Clarke. Maybe she wasn’t good enough, anymore, to deserve Lexa Woods. 

She was doing her best to separate herself from that anxiety, become more self-assured and confident, as she had been before the tragedy of her father’s death, before Finn had cheated on her, before, before, before. 

Somewhere, inside her, was the girl she had once been. Strong, unforgiving, and a leader at heart. She just had to find herself, again, as she’d become lost somewhere along the way. It would be a long, tiring journey, but Clarke was willing to do whatever it took so that she would never feel so weak and helpless. 

Shaking herself out of her moment of introspection, Clarke hummed and stuck her hands in the pockets of Lexa’s high school letterman, the weather in California finally cool enough that jackets could be worn in the light of day. Aden had sent her a picture the other day of himself and Atom, bundled up and grinning, proudly showing off a snowman that the two had built together. Cold nights and cocoa seemed nice, but Clarke found she rather enjoyed the warmer weather, the ability to walk outside and enjoy the sun and the cool-crisp air and not having to worry about the probability of snowfall. 

Murphy had called her an hour or so earlier, wondering if she wanted to come over and watch a movie or hang out, take a moment to relax. Clarke, of course, had accepted immediately. The stress of her own job and heavy workload had been wearing at her, and any moment to take a breather was readily welcomed. 

Years ago, Clarke couldn’t have imagined the close relationship she now had with Murphy. 

In the years before high school, the two had shared classes, but never had many interactions. To Clarke, John Murphy had always been the odd boy who sat in the back of the classroom, always getting into trouble, Bellamy’s friend more than hers―the fact that the two of them had met during ballet lessons still baffled her to this day―who didn’t like many people and preferred to stick to the shadows while Clarke beamed in the light of the sun. 

But he’d grown to find himself a secure place in Clarke’s spacious heart, offering her advice and solitude when she needed it most, never too busy to lend an ear to listen, and there was something about his detached nature that made him all the easier to warm up to, in Clarke’s opinion. He’d just needed people to bring out the best of him, and he loved them fiercely in return, even though he still had problems admitting it out loud. 

 Murphy lived in a double in the dorms on campus, but had driven his roommate insane within the first week or so, thus securing the larger space for himself alone, in true Murphy fashion.

“The amazing Clarke Griffin, gracing me with her presence,” Murphy grinned as he opened the door to welcome Clarke in. Clarke realized, in that moment, that she’d never really seen Murphy’s home. In high school, he’d spent time in and out of the Jaha home, and point blank refused to talk about his father or bring any of his friends remotely near him. 

It was minimalistic, as Clarke had expected. 

His double bed sat in the far corner, monochromatic bedsheets of gray and black neatly folded, pillows pressed and propped against the wall. There was a desk where his books were situated, and a couch and coffee table Clarke had definitely seen for sale in a furniture catalog propped up in front of the T.V. Murphy had swindled Thelonious into getting him as a graduation present. 

“There’s beer in the mini fridge and a coffee maker if you need it,” Murphy said, resuming his position slumped at the couch, tv displaying the loading screen of Overwatch. 

“Any food?”

“There might be some chinese takeout from like two days ago in there,” Murphy shrugged. “Let me close out of this, I was just playing with Green and Jordan.”

“Which characters do you play as?” Clarke asked, looking through the fridge while Murphy left the game. 

“I main Junkrat, obviously. Green mains Genji and Jordan, the idiot, is an entirely incompetent Mercy.”

“I don’t speak  _ nerd  _ so I’ll just pretend I know what that means,” Clarke teased, finally deciding on just taking a beer before she settled down next to Murphy who rolled his eyes at her. 

“ _ Sure _ , Griff, you got just as into those Mario Kart tournaments as the rest of us.”

“That’s because Raven cheats,” Clarke grumbled, “I had to defend my honor.”

“Sure, Griff, whatever you say.” Murphy flipped to Wells’ Netflix and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “So what mood are we in today? Drama? Comedy? Animation? Romance?”

Clarke wordlessly took the remote and flipped to  _ The Notebook _ . 

“Excellent choice,” Murphy agreed, grabbing for the box of tissue on the coffee table and positioning it so it was closer to the two of them. “I was in the mood for a good cry today.”

Murphy was right. Sometimes you just needed to watch a cheesy romance movie and sob a little to cleanse your emotional state. And this was one of those days. 

Though they sat on opposite ends of the couch, their legs entangled underneath their shared blanket as Clarke assumed a brother and sister’s would, the two of them silent as they watched the movie, but leeching comfort and support from one another in subtle ways. Clarke was comfortable here, with Murphy, and the movie provided a much-needed distraction from her often self-destructive inner monologues. 

“I want someone to build  _ me  _ a house, damn,” Murphy muttered under his breath, and Clarke rolled her eyes fondly. It was a nice thought, though. 

A big house, spacious and modern, with a yard full of flowers, carefully tended to by a loving, nurturing hand. Early weekend mornings and sleepy kisses and little feet tearing down the halls, accompanied by a dog, or a cat, or maybe both. Raising a family with the love of her life in a home made by them, for them… it was more than Clarke had ever dared dream. 

Lexa brought out the dreamer in her.

As Clarke’s thoughts strayed further away from the movie and more into the realm of potential futures with her and Lexa, children with green eyes and wide smiles, there was a brief moment of peace. Tranquility. 

And then it all shattered in one shrill  _ screech _ . 

“Shit,” Murphy cursed, tumbling off of the couch in his surprise, “goddamn it, this is the third time this has happened this week. Hold on a second, let me go check.” Clarke’s eyes were blown wide as she curled in on herself protectively, mind barely comprehending the meaning behind Murphy’s words. Everything was warped, sounds swimming across Clarke’s ears and images blurring together. It had been as though something within her had snapped, a cord strung too tightly, and the anxiety that had been thrumming beneath her skin consumed her in a tsunami of overwhelming  _ panic _ . 

“Yeah, there’s a pair of idiots down the hall who keep trying to do mad science, they remind me of Green and Jordan quite frank―shit,  _ Clarke? _ Are you okay?”

Clarke felt gentle hands try and pry her arms out from where she was crushing them beneath her legs. It was too much noise at once, and her mind reeled back to a day she wished she could forget, of a loud  _ crash  _ and ringing in her ears and white-hot pain. 

Her hand was suddenly on something that was thumping steadily, a pattern she could follow. 

“Breathe with me Clarke, okay? In, out, in, out. You’re doing great.”

Murphy had quickened his own breathing so that it matched her erratic, gasped breaths, and she inhaled and exhaled deeply when Murphy instructed her to. 

“Alright, good, very good. Can you keep breathing for me? I’m gonna call Lexa.” That, Clarke recognized, and she shook her head almost violently at the suggestion. 

“You don’t want me to call Lexa?” Murphy sounded genuinely confused, and if Clarke wasn’t so overwhelmed she might feel bad for him. “Why don’t you want me to call Lexa?” 

“She’s… probably busy,” Clarke managed to get out after a few shuddering breaths, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

“I don’t think she’s too busy for this,” Murphy insisted, “you know how crazy she is for you, Clarke, she’d drop whatever she was doing at a moment’s notice to help you.”

“Don’t,” Clarke repeated again, voice weaker than it had been in a long time, “I can’t. I can’t depend on her anymore. I have to be…” she struggled to find the words amidst the tremors wracking through her body. “I need to be me.”

“What? Clarke,  _ breathe _ , but you aren’t making any sense.”

“I need to be able to depend on myself,” Clarke repeated after a few more minutes of trying to regain composure, “I need to be… be…”

“Independent?” Murphy supplied, but the words didn’t sound happy leaving his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t―”  _ I love Lexa, but I have to be more than just her girlfriend. I have to be Clarke Griffin the artist, not Clarke Griffin the girlfriend of Lexa Woods. I need to find myself and be my own person. I love her but I need to love me, too.  _ “ _ ― _ this is. I’m being dumb.”

“Don’t invalidate your own feelings like that,” Murphy said sternly, hugging Clarke close to his chest, “alright? You aren’t broken, Clarke, you aren’t something that needs to be fixed. You can be dependent and still depend on people, alright? It’s not a bad thing, to let the people who love you help you. I do it, it doesn’t make you any less of a person. It’s okay to need help, sometimes, Clarke, nobody can get through life alone.”

Clarke stayed silent for a long moment before she nodded. 

“You want me to call Lexa?” She nodded again. “Alright, you hold tight, Clarke, Lexa will be here soon, I promise.”

Time seemed to fade away as Clarke focused on the pounding in her head and the ringing in her ears. The noise had stopped, but she could still hear it. She could hear her mother, telling her that her father had passed, feel the sobs wracking through her chest when it finally registered that Jake Griffin would no longer be there in the morning to make pancakes singing along to the sound of classic rock in the background, that he would no longer be there to pick her up and patch her scraped knees and heal her hurts. 

She cried, sitting there, curled into herself on Murphy’s couch, for the life she had lost, the father she had loved, and the hope within her that had shattered. 

And then there was the familiar pressure of warm arms wrapping around her and Clarke felt herself cry harder. 

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe.” Clarke clung to Lexa like a lifeline, letting the sobs leave her body as Lexa uttered soft assurances to her. “You’ve done so well, you’re safe, let it out.”

What with the problems they’d had recently with their scheduling, and the fact that Clarke  _ knew  _ Lexa had been at her job when Murphy had called her, Clarke was somewhat surprised by the fact that Lexa still considered her enough of a priority to run to at a moment’s notice. And that thought itself made Clarke frown inwardly at the voice of her anxieties. 

Of course Lexa would come running to her aide. 

She was still the same Lexa Woods Clarke had fallen in love with at Arkadia, the girl somewhat lost in the world with the weight of mountains on her shoulders looking for someone to give her the love she’d been so heartbreakingly deprived of in her childhood. And in that moment, Clarke realized, or remembered, more so, that she was Lexa’s rock as much as Lexa was her own. They were strong on their own but infinitely stronger together. 

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

_ We’ve got each other _ , Clarke thought to herself as she cried into Lexa’s arms. 

That was all that mattered. 

“I’ve got you.”

* * *

 

For the first time in weeks, Clarke woke up in her girlfriend’s arms. 

No alarms, no school, no work, nothing. 

Just the two of them, and a fine Saturday morning. 

It was almost surreal. Back in Arkadia, this hardly would’ve been a rarity. But here, in the real world, Clarke was moved by it. 

She took great pleasure in the way Lexa’s muscled arms curled around her. She could feel Lexa’s abs pressed into her backside, and it all felt like  _ home.  _

Lexa’s hair was splayed out onto the pillow, and her face was buried in the crook of Clarke’s neck, breathing warm air there. 

Lexa smelled like lavender vanilla. Clarke was in heaven. Her lips were soft, pressed against Clarke’s bare skin. 

It was like a perfect dream. 

They were curled up in bed, in their shared apartment, with nothing to do and nowhere to be. 

It was how Clarke had always imagined their mornings, oddly enough. 

“Lex?” Clarke croaked, knowing her girlfriend was usually up before her. She slowly turned in Lexa’s arms to face her, and was shocked to find her still asleep. Kind of. 

Lexa scrunched her nose into an  _ adorable  _ pout, and snuggled right into Clarke’s chest. 

“Lex?” 

“No.” She grumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

“Sorry, baby, I need to-” 

“Clarke?” Lexa blinked rapidly, sitting up. “Are you okay?” She seemed to realize where she was, and what had happened to Clarke with thew whole panic attack, and quickly tried to assess the situation. 

“I’m fine.” Clarke smiled softly, and Lexa mirrored it, grinning back. 

“Oh. Then good morning.” She mumbled, and Clarke went in to plant a loving kiss on her lips, feeling Lexa’s arms wrap around her as they deepened the kiss, falling back onto the bed. 

“Morning.” Clarke mumbled into their kisses, hands sliding down Lexa’s back, appreciatively squeezing her shapely ass. 

Lexa yelped into their kiss, and Clarke grinned, giving her another pinch. 

“Someone’s playful.” Lexa noted, as Clarke attacked her neck. 

“I just...feel good.” Clarke whispered, as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself. 

She pretended like she didn’t know why- but she did. It was because of the normalcy of the moment: how it felt timeless, like they were back in Arkadia, and everything was normal. 

Lexa grinned, and Clarke could  _ feel  _ how her happiness touched Lexa’s soul, and in turn, made her happy. The emotion was so strong, it nearly brought her to tears. Lexa’s happiness was her happiness, and if that wasn’t the purest, truest form of love, Clarke would be damned. 

“That makes me so happy.” Lexa whispered, kissing her jaw. “I’ve missed you so much. I feel so stupid, we  _ live  _ with each other, and yet-” 

“And yet it feels like you went to DC University.” Clarke finished for her, snuggling into Lexa’s tight hold. 

“Clarke.” Lexa sighed. “Can I...make this up to you? For today, at least?” 

Clarke blinked. “Make what up to me, Lex? You’re following your dreams. I don’t regret any of this, if it’s what you want to do.” 

Lexa sighed blissfully at Clarke’s response. “Please, Clarke, I want to treat you. I never get the chance. I have to prove my worth, so you won’t leave me.” 

Clarke knew Lexa was joking, but with her girlfriend’s complicated history of abandonment, she wanted to be sure. 

“Lex. If anyone were to leave, it’d be you, ascending these social ladders, and forgetting all about me-” 

“Don’t  _ ever  _ say that.” Lexa spoke firmly, startling Clarke. “Clarke, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and you  _ always  _ will be. I will never  _ outgrow  _ my love for you. It evolves with me. It gets refined, stronger, better. I promise.” Lexa whispered, moving to brush away tears she already knew were going to fall. 

“I love you.” Clarke allowed herself to be taken in, her swollen lips meeting Lexa’s in a soft kiss, turned furious with each passing second. 

“I love you.” Lexa echoed, their noses brushing. “Let me show you today, Clarke.” 

“Are you sure?” Clarke looked doubtful, as if she couldn’t believe it. “No practice? Or work? Or-” 

“You.” Lexa tugged her bottom lip between her own. “Me.” She slid her hands down, skimming Clarke’s waist. “All day.” She whispered with an air of finality. 

“Slick.” Clarke whispered. 

“I used to be a womanizer, before I met you.” Lexa teased, playing into the rumors about her. 

“And then I tamed you?” Clarke batted her lashes. 

“Something like that.” Lexa admitted, closing her eyes, savoring the feel of Clarke in her arms. She’d forgotten what life was like when it felt as if only the two of them existed. 

She remembered how it was her favorite feeling in the world. 

* * *

 

Lexa missed Clarke immensely. It wasn’t as if Clarke was doing all the suffering, and the angsting, and the hurting. She was simply...different, than Clarke. She was a supernova: She burned, she imploded, she took everything in her path with such a raging force that she couldn’t possibly be stopped. She burned brightly, she garnered attention, she took on every task ahead of her without a second to pause and give herself any doubt.

It wasn’t necessarily healthy, but it was just how she operated. Ever since she was a young girl, eagerly trying to impress her distant parents, she took on as many tasks as she could. She was a valedictorian, a world class athlete, a peerless lover…but not without her own fair share of damage.

Being perfect wasn’t easy. It wasn’t even close. Lexa learned, early on, that perfection was a myth. There was simply no way to obtain it. Why? Because with all the efforts it took to attain perfection, there was simply not an ounce of willpower left in oneself to enjoy it. Lexa learned that she could  _ appear _ to be perfect, and that was good enough. She could prove to the world that she achieved what they never could, without the guidance of parents, no less.

So, Lexa grew up, learning to perfectly perpetuate this false image of perfection, without any care for herself, her mental health, any of it.

And then she met Clarke Griffin, who almost instantly became her life. Naturally, she assumed Clarke to have the same expectations the world had of her. But Clarke…didn’t. Clarke teased her for her wealth, and her looks, and her popularity. Clarke  _ liked  _ her soft, vulnerable side. Clarke thought she was beautiful when she came out of the hospital, all bruised and battered from Roan Queen’s move during that one fateful game in High School.

Her final year at Arkadia was muted. She’d already had the grades, she’d proven her worth in football, and she had nothing else to prove. It resulted in the most blissful few months, falling madly in love with Clarke, catering to her.

But then college hit her like a ton of bricks, and Lexa remembered what it was like to spend every second of her existence working towards a goal. She  _ needed  _ to show her parents that she was more than capable of taking up the mantle of their business,  _ and  _ be the best damned quarterback in the league. She  _ needed  _ to keep her grades up. It was supposed to be this divine test of her independence. 

And somehow, she  _ knew  _ she wasn’t supposed to care what Alexander and Anastasia thought of her. 

But she did. 

And so, here she found herself, buried under stresses that she’d asked for, with little time for Clarke. 

But it was nowhere near intentional. 

And it wasn’t as if she or Clarke were losing interest: the two of them fell deeper into love with each passing day. They yearned and longed for each other. 

They just had rotten timing. 

So Lexa promised herself that today, of all days, perhaps her only free day of the semester: she was going to treat Clarke. It was going to be just like they were back in Arkadia. 

She was going to romance and enchant Clarke just like she did in high school.

And so a quiet day of respite and fun began for the two. 

“Lex!” Clarke laughed, a bubbly, bright, genuine laugh as they held hands, walking through the off campus apartments to the parking lot. 

Clarke was in a doubly cheerful mood. Not only did Lexa flaunt her around as they passed many of their classmates, who all greeted and waved to them as if they were some famous couple, but Lexa’s full attention was indisputably on Clarke. 

“Hmm?” Lexa hummed, reaching for the keys to her Audi, shuffling around in the pocket of her jeans. She looked simple and elegant all at once. She wore her hair down at Clarke’s behest, a scarf wrapped around her neck, her designer sunglasses sitting on her head. She looked like she was straight out of a magazine.

“Where are we going?” Clarke whined. “You never tell me.” 

“Don’t you trust me?” Lexa smirked. 

“Of course.” Clarke responded instantly. “I just want to know if you have a better activity in mind than I did.” 

“Nothing is better than sex with you.” Lexa teased. 

“Damn, how’d you know?” Clarke snapped her fingers in faux disappointment. “Can I drive, babe? I miss it.” 

Lexa replied instantly. “I know you’re trying to figure out where we’re going ahead of time, and I’m not telling you.” 

Clarke sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re good.” 

Lexa grinned, stealing a kiss from Clarke’s pouting lips. “I know.” 

* * *

 

“A beachside restaurant?” Clarke gasped as Lexa pulled the car in off the main highway, smiling cheekily. “I can’t believe it…” 

Lexa’s car rolled in behind a Porsche, and Clarke suddenly had an inkling of just what kind of place this was. 

“Lexa…” Clarke drawled. 

“Yes, Clarke?” 

“This...doesn’t seem  _ budget friendly. _ ” 

Lexa smirked. “The  _ Ocean Club  _ typically isn’t made for people with budgets, Clarke.” 

Clarke gaped. “You brought me on a date to the fucking Ocean Club? Lexa, are you out of your-” 

“As if you deserve any less.” Lexa scoffed indignantly. 

“But Lexa, look at the line of cars, the wait must be-” 

“Reservations.” Lexa winked. 

“But, I-” 

“I wanted to be romantic, again.” Lexa admitted shyly. “I don’t want you to think that I’m going to stop trying, or that all our best times were just a honeymoon phase, or-” 

“Lexa!” Clarke cut her off. “Baby, I don’t think you’ve stopped trying. I think you put forth more effort than anyone I’ve ever met.” 

“You’re worth it.” Lexa defended with a blush. 

Clarke mirrored her blush, kissing Lexa’s hand. “Lex, I enjoy my time with you, whether it’s at the best restaurant in the city...or just playing mario kart half naked.” 

“That sentence started out so charming…” Lexa teased, rolling the car to a stop in front of the valet. “But for the record- we’re doing both today.” 

Lexa’s name pulled much weight, as Clarke suspected. Within seconds, they were shown to a private, walled off table on the beachfront, a stunning view of the waves just ahead of them. Clarke was thankful for the sun, the warm heaters, and Lexa’s coat wrapped around her. She felt herself grin, however, when Lexa slid into the seat beside her, rather than across her, as they often did when they were feeling particularly intimate. 

“Are you warm?” Lexa asked as soon as they were alone, their appetizers en route. 

“I am, but what about you?” Clarke asked, concern tinging her tone. “I know you’re like a furnace, but-” 

“I’m fine. Really.” Lexa replied, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s temple. 

“Alright.” Clarke turned in her seat, facing Lexa, an unmovable smile on her lips. 

“What’s got you so smiley, Griffin?” Lexa quipped. 

“You. I just want to soak and bask in your presence a while.” Clarke replied loftily, sipping her water. 

“Well it’s been a while since I’ve properly taken you out, but we see each other every day. You forgetting my face already?” Lexa grinned. 

“No.” Clarke tsked. “Your rising status makes it hard to believe I have the  _ privilege  _ of sitting with you.” There was something undetectable in her tone, something unsettling, something  _ wrong.  _

Lexa picked up on it almost instantaneously. “That’s not something Clarke Griffin from Arkadia High would say.” She countered softly. 

“What would she do?” Clarke asked, just as softly. (And really, she wanted to know. Maybe she’d been smarter, then.) 

“She’d probably spit in my drink and tell me to get my head out of my ass.” Lexa replied cheekily. 

Clarke laughed, but it died down, and she took a breath, watching the waves roll in and out of the golden sand. 

“Seriously, Clarke.” Lexa whispered, voice suddenly grave. “Have I done something to make you feel this way?” 

And Clarke suddenly felt a wave of negative emotions, guilt being the most prominent among them. She’d been thinking about those  _ fucking  _ tweets again, and she’d gone and subconsciously vented at her poor girlfriend. Her perfect, loving girl who’d done nothing but shower her in love and affection and expensive gifts at every turn. 

This needed to end. 

Clarke’s eyes sparked with fear of offending Lexa, and she quickly turned to cup her cheek. “Lexa, no, I’m sorry. It was just a...joke. A commentary on your popularity. I shouldn’t have worded it like that. I’m sorry.” 

Lexa looked confused. “No, Clarke, it’s alright. I just...you don’t feel as if I’ve been pushing you away, right?” 

“No.” Clarke answered instantly, and it was the truth. 

She didn’t feel as if Lexa were pushing her away. She felt as if the  _ world  _ was trying to drive them apart. It was different. 

“I went and fucked up our date, didn’t I?” Clarke breathed. 

Lexa looked shaken. “What? No, Clarke, of course not. If you have anything to say, I want to hear it, love.” 

Clarke thought about it. 

She thought about telling Lexa about how difficult her new schedule was, and how they needed more time together, so she could just  _ see for herself  _ what her newfound fame was doing to their lives. 

To Clarke’s emotions. 

But then Clarke realized that would be selfish. So utterly selfish, to try and force her thoughts and feelings onto Lexa’s future. 

So she wore a smile, (And it really wasn’t hard, with the view, and Lexa’s warm jacket, doused in her perfume, wrapped around her), and planted a firm kiss on Lexa’s lips. 

That seemed to unwind Lexa’s thoughts, and she melted into the kiss, sighing blissfully. 

That was what kept Clarke together. 

Knowing how strong their love was, despite all outside factors. Knowing that the absence of one another only made their hearts grow fonder. 

It was her hope. 

“Want to share a plate?” Clarke drawled, batting her eyelashes. 

Lexa smirked. “I most certainly do not. That’d hardly be half a portion.” 

Clarke grinned. “Fuck, that’s the  _ hottest  _ thing you’ve ever said.” 

She and Lexa laughed at their inside joke, knowing full well they could share their dishes, the mood shifting to something light and loving.

The rest of the day was beautiful and forgiving. 

* * *

 

“Fuck you, Lex!” Clarke mumbled hastily under her breath. 

“That’s next.” Lexa assured, turning to kiss Clarke’s shoulder, from where she sat on the floor, in between Clarke’s legs, leaning back into Clarke’s arms, as the two played Mario Kart together back in their apartment. 

True to their word, they’d changed into their underwear, lounging around lazily as they played. 

Clarke was competitive as hell, and Lexa was doubtlessly the same. The two went head to head, track after track, lap after lap. 

Shouts of, “Aw, seriously? The blue shell?!” and “Eat my dust, baby” filled the apartment as the two sparred for first place. 

Lexa had just lapped Clarke, grinning cheekily as Clarke’s car spun out against the impact of the shell she’d launched. 

“Why did I choose Princess Peach?” Clarke cursed herself. 

“Raven said that’s what you called your va-” 

“Raven lies.” Clarke gritted. 

“It’s fitting.” Lexa smirked, and Clarke froze in surprise at her vulgarity, long enough for Lexa to slide across the checkered finish line. “Apartment Record!” Lexa cheered, tossing her remote down with a whoop. 

“I can’t believe you beat me with Bowser.” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“Why? He’s cool, like  _ me.”  _ Lexa grinned, and Clarke didn’t want to admit that she found her adorable. With her round dimpled cheeks and- 

“Oh my god.” 

“What?” Lexa blinked. 

“You’re Yoshi.” 

“What?” 

“The resemblance is striking.” 

“I remind you of the egg laying...dinosaur thing?” 

“With chubby cheeks.” 

“They’re not chubby!” Lexa huffed indignantly. “I don’t have an ounce of chub on me.” 

“Yeah?” Clarke grinned, pinching her cheeks. “Why can I do this, then, baby?” 

Lexa laughed into Clarke’s hold, leaning forward to kiss her. 

“Whoa.” Clarke breathed, fumbling for the remote to switch the console and TV off as she caught sight of Lexa’s tanned, gorgeous, muscled body in her Calvins. She moved her hands along the flat iron of Lexa’s abs, leaning into the warmth of Lexa’s body, pushed back against the couch. 

Clarke wasn’t sure whose lip started trembling first, or which weak smile came first, or which sort of choked laughter was the first to spill out. 

But the two of them were kissing messily, sobbing like idiots almost, laughing and clinging to each other. 

“Let’s get to bed.” Clarke mumbled against her lips, and Lexa agreed silently. Clarke pushed off her hands, standing and steadying herself before offering her hand to Lexa, who used it to rise. 

Clarke grinned, and before Lexa could ask why, she felt her legs get swept up underneath her, and suddenly, Clarke was holding her. 

“Clarke!” Lexa gasped, so soft and feminine sounding, and Clarke’s smile brightened at the sound. “You’ll hurt yourself!” 

“As if.” Clarke snorted. “Baby, you’re all muscle.” 

“Muscle is heavy!” Lexa fretted. 

Clarke’s smile softened. “Relax.” She leaned forward to kiss Lexa, and she felt Lexa adjust, her arms going to loop around Clarke’s neck, her legs moving to wrap around her waist. 

Lexa lips tangled with Clarke’s as she pressed into another kiss, spurring Clarke on towards their bedroom, still in fits of giggles and grins from time to time. 

It was strange. It was cathartic. It was a purging experience, pushing out all the pent up negativity, giving way to the beauty and positivity their relationship fostered. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.” Lexa whimpered against Clarke’s lips as Clarke pushed her down against the bed, crawling over her predatorily, kissing every inch of skin available to her. 

Clarke beamed at that. 

She knew it was a temporary fix, but Lexa had this amazing ability to make Clarke feel like she was the only girl in the world. Lexa adored her, cherished her, washed away all her insecurities with a few words and endless kisses. 

It was like falling in love all over again, every time. 

Clarke suspected what she and Lexa had was, perhaps, one in a billion. 

“I’ve missed you too.” Clarke whispered. 

As if reading her mind, Lexa nuzzled her neck. “You know I’m yours.” She offered herself wholeheartedly, and Clarke knew how much that meant, coming from the little girl who was more or less emotionally abandoned, growing up. 

She was offering herself on a silver platter, to Clarke. Vulnerable, bare, loving. The whole nine yards. 

Clarke knew to be fragile and loving with Lexa’s heart. 

“And I’m yours.” Clarke promised, feeling Lexa tug her closer. 

“I know things haven’t been easy…” Lexa panted, sounding choked up. “But...You haven’t left me yet, and I was worried-” 

“I won’t.” Clarke promised firmly, kissing Lexa’s swollen lips with great affection, her words emphasized by her actions. “Ever.” 

“I’m going to make everything worth it.” Lexa promised, voice barely above a hoarse whisper.  _ I’m doing this for you and me. _ The words died in her throat. 

So, Lexa would learn the hard way, that she didn’t have to chase anyone else’s dream but her own. Not those of her parents, of her fans, no one’s. 

But Clarke saw the purpose, the  _ intent,  _ behind Lexa’s bright emerald eyes. She saw how Lexa wanted to do so much, but already feared she was cutting it too close with Clarke. 

Well, that was  _ one  _ single thing Clarke could do to help. 

“Do whatever you need to do, Lex. I’m here. I’ll be here.” Clarke murmured, nuzzling Lexa’s collar bone, brushing butterfly kisses there. 

“I love you.” Lexa spoke softly, lovingly, as Clarke peeled away at her bra, peppering her chest in kisses of reassurance, of lust, of love, all at once. 

“And I love you.” 

Clarke and Lexa slept incredibly well, and Clarke felt weeks of suffering soothed by the memories she’d just made that day with her girl. 

She remembered waking up once, in the middle of the night, moonlight pouring in through the window, everything perfectly calm and serene. Lexa’s breathing was deep and slow, her body warm like a furnace, her arms wrapped tightly around Clarke, a blissful smile on her sleeping face. 

Clarke remembered thinking that was how college was  _ supposed  _ to be, all the time. 

 

* * *

 

Lexa, as it seemed, just kept winning. 

This was, of course, a good thing. A fantastic thing, really. Her success in football certainly bolstered her confidence in other aspects of her life―her job, her classes, her relationship with Clarke―but there was a downside that Clarke observed with the constant string of victories. 

Social media. 

More specifically, the rapidly increasing following Lexa had garnered across all her social media platforms―Instagram, Tumblr, Snapchat, and the like―but the worst, by far, was her following on Twitter. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for her,” Clarke relayed to Murphy as the boy focused on painting her toenails, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, “extremely happy for her. But dear god, her twitter followers can be…” she trailed off. 

“Intense?” Murphy supplied. 

“Yeah, that’s the word I was looking for.  _ Intense _ .” Personally, Clarke thought that  _ insane  _ might be a more apt description for the hoards of screaming teenage girls―and some middle aged housewives undergoing their sexuality crisis later in life that were particularly traumatizing―who were doing their best to throw themselves at her girlfriend over the internet.  

And not to mention, they were  _ mean _ . 

Vicious, more like it. Since they were all hyperfocused on trying to get Lexa Woods to love them, they had singled in on Clarke as a point of attack. If they could break the two of them up, then that increased their chances at becoming the next Mrs. Woods tenfold. 

At first, the attacks had been small, and only by a few accounts that Clarke could easily block and report for harassment. She hadn’t been very bothered by it, then, only mildly annoyed and somewhat amused. But now? Now they were getting harder and harder to ignore. 

For Clarke, at least. 

Lexa had thousands of notifications and mentions flooding her twitter every day, so she’d taken to turning them off and only going on her twitter when she had the intent to tweet something meaningful or promotional, either for a game or an updated status on how she was doing at her parents’ company. Her schedule was so busy that she didn’t have the time to check through all of them, so she took to not looking at them at all. 

Clarke, on the other hand, was not so lucky. 

The  _ attacks _ ―because really she couldn’t call them anything else at this point―on her character were becoming more and more frequent, and were usually organized in a manner that was hard to wipe out all at once. She couldn’t just block and look away anymore, now she actually had to sift through them, and after so many tweets of disheartening comments, she couldn’t help but let them get to her, a little bit.   

“I can imagine,” Murphy chuckled, and Clarke fought the urge to kick him in the face on reflex when he blew on the polish in an attempt to get it to dry faster. “They must sound a lot like you on a regular basis talking about Woods.  _ Oh―” _ his voice went up several octaves as he batted his eyelashes overzealously “― _ Lexa, your abs look so good when you’re sweating. Take me now _ .” Clarke huffed and threw a pillow at him which he easily avoided. 

“ _ Oh Lexa _ ,” he continued in a sing-song voice, “ _ pin me against the wall with your strong arms.” _ Clarke winced as she laughed. That was certainly something she’d never wanted to hear leave Murphy’s mouth. 

“You’re an idiot,” she scowled, and Murphy just laughed. 

“Let me go read some, I’m sure the  _ Lexa Woods  _ search on twitter is just teeming with activity.” Murphy snagged his phone from where it rested on his coffee table before opening the twitter app, scrolling through it with his thumb quickly. 

“Oh, here’s a good one,” he opened, “ _ I want the commander to raw me until I can’t stand _ . I distinctly recall you doing a fair imitation of a baby deer the first time Woods came to school looking like the cat that’d caught the canary. Oh, wow, some of these are weird.  _ I want Lexa Woods to punch me in the face _ . Have they seen how strong she is? That wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for anyone involved.”

He continued to scroll and then his brow creased.

“What the―?” He scowled at his phone. 

“What is it?” Clarke asked, moving to peek over his shoulder. Her heart fell when she noticed it was one of the tweets about her, one she’d seen.  _ Hey, if Clarke Griffin can end up with Lexa Woods that means there’s hope for all of us.  _

“That’s a mild one,” Clarke attempted to laugh off, “you haven’t seen the worst of them.”

“There are  _ more _ ?” Murphy demanded. “Clarke this is horrible.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Clarke responded after a moment, “honestly, they’re just people on the internet acting like idiots. Nothing new.”

“Yeah, but it’s a problem when they’re attacking you consistently,” Murphy insisted, “does Woods know about this?”

Clarke shook her head. 

“Well why the fuck not?”

“She’s too busy to worry about little things like this,” Clarke insisted, “honestly, Murph, you’re making a big deal out of something little. She’s barely even on her twitter anymore, let alone enough to notice that a few people are being rude to me.”

“A few?” Murphy raised an eyebrow. “So if I look up  _ Clarke Griffin  _ on twitter it will just be filled with happiness and people pulling rainbows out of their asses?”

It wouldn’t be, Clarke knew this. She’d ventured into her own search engine too many times to say differently in good conscious. Of course, there  _ were  _ lovely people who gushed about how cute she and Lexa were together, but they were the minority amongst jealous fangirls who wanted Lexa to themselves and people who were a little  _ too  _ interested in their relationship. 

“You have to pick your battles, Murphy,” Clarke sighed, “internet trolls will be internet trolls. You can’t expect them to stop.”

“Yeah, well you can expect them to be decent fucking human beings,” Murphy scowled, “I’m reporting these sons of bitches.”

Knowing that there was no point in arguing with him, Clarke remained silent. 

“You know everything they say is completely ridiculous, right?” he asked after a moment, as though the thought had just come to him. 

Logically, Clarke knew that the answer was  _ yes _ . But they had a way of playing into her insecurities. People would point out the socioeconomic differences between Clarke and Lexa’s family, and Clarke had been called a golddigger among many other things. In addition, they compared the physiques of the two of them, and the curves Lexa so adored had been attacked at increased rates recently. She’d been trying so hard to love herself and her body, and Lexa had helped immensely in that regard, but she could still feel her creeping doubt in the back of her mind, and the little voice whispering in her ear that these people were right. 

“ _ Right _ , Clarke?” Murphy asked again. 

Her silence was enough of an answer. 

“Look,” he said, bluntly, “these people are insecure idiots who just want Woods for her money and her abs. And quite frankly none of these people would do any good for her since they’d just feed her already overinflated ego.”

Clarke remembered how bad Lexa had been when she first met her and privately agreed.  _ God _ , she didn’t want to see Lexa that arrogant ever again. Now, her arrogance only made an appearance when she was trying to get the press off her back or in the bedroom, which was entirely acceptable and highly attractive in that context. 

“You might not have the body of an Olympic athlete, but that’s a ridiculous standard to hold you to,” Murphy continued, incensed at this point, “like, Woods is the freaky exception.  _ Nobody  _ is that fit. I can barely do a single push-up, and that’s me  _ trying _ .”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. Murphy’s upper body strength had never been something to marvel at, that was for sure. He’d preferred to have Bell do all the heavy lifting in their friendship, or Emori once the two of them started dating. 

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Murphy cut in, “my point is that all bodies are good bodies, and Clarke, you are  _ far  _ from fat, or whatever these idiots call you. And so what if you even were? Like it's a goddamn crime? Like it would actually make a damn difference? You may not be able to run ten miles without breaking a sweat, but I don’t think  _ anyone  _ can do that.”

“Thanks, Murphy,” Clarke responded quietly. 

“And know I’m not bullshitting you,” he responded instead of acknowledging her thanks, “I’ve never been one to sugarcoat things and you know it.”

She  _ did _ . 

Though she still couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they were right. 

“Yeah,” Clarke responded, and if the response sounded a little hollow neither of them commented on it, “don’t worry, Murphy, it’ll be fine.”  _ Maybe it wouldn’t _ . 

“If you’re sure.”

_ She wasn’t. _

* * *

 

 

“Congratulations, baby.” Clarke showered Lexa with kisses after a particularly difficult match. Clarke was loyally waiting by Lexa’s locker, and was picked up and swept around as they embraced. “Playoffs on your first season? As a starter? You’re nothing short of incredible.” Clarke murmured, brushing a stray hair out of Lexa’s face. 

“Thank you.” Lexa murmured, nuzzling Clarke’s neck. “I hope I made you...and everyone else proud.” 

Clarke felt a twinge of sorrow for her love. “Baby, of course you did. Did you make  _ yourself  _  proud?” 

“That’s secondary.” Lexa replied softly. 

“It shouldn’t be.” 

“It’s how I was raised. Or...How I  _ wasn’t  _ raised.” Lexa replied. 

Clarke loved Lexa’s parents, they were truly amazing. It pained her to see the way Lexa was carrying the baggage of their accidental neglect, so many years later. 

They hadn’t meant it, but they’d created a demon of perfection, within Lexa. A monster who wouldn’t settle for anything less than the very best. 

It made Clarke worry. 

“Hey.” Lexa held Clarke’s chin up, cobalt blue meeting forest green. “I know what you’re thinking.” 

“You do?” Clarke exhaled guiltily. 

“Mhmm.” Lexa nodded and hummed. “You think this is going to add to the divide between us lately. But Clarke, it won’t.” 

“It...won’t?” Clarke echoed, before she had a chance to correct Lexa, to tell her that hadn’t at all been what she was thinking. 

“No. I won’t let it.” Lexa assured, caressing Clarke’s cheek. 

“Um, how?” Was all Clarke could manage, getting lost in the depth of Lexa’s eyes, wishing she could reason with her beautiful, overly ambitious love. 

“I’m just going to have to work harder.” Lexa whispered, as if there was actually even the slightest possibility that she could. 

“Harder?” Clarke stuttered. “Lex, you can’t-” 

But Lexa was already off, verbalizing her great vision of the future. “Finals are coming too, I know, so I’ll have to study for those. But think about this Clarke...The business. I think I see an opening, one that Alie wants too, so it’ll be tight. But I can  _ prove  _ myself worthy, and Sinclair will  _ have  _ to give it to me. And then, playoffs? Clarke, this will make  _ waves,  _ if I can pull this off. I’ll have to put in the extra hours with the trainers, and the team to study our films, but my twitter count is going to  _ skyrocket,  _ and my parents will notice-” 

“Lexa.” Clarke interrupted meekly. She felt light headed. 

“Clarke, I’ll always make time for you. For us.” Lexa pressed. “I don’t know how, but-” 

“Lex, don’t worry about me.” Clarke spoke, though she was betraying herself. “I’ll get through this, but what about you? This is ridiculous, you can’t possibly-” 

“That’s what they said about me playing football as a girl, Clarke. And making the high school teams. And being a lesbian. And mastering the piano, and getting perfect grades and graduating top of-” 

“Lexa.” Clarke murmured. “It’s not like that, baby. No one is  _ doubting  _ you. They, I...I’m worried about you. Your health.”  _ Your rabid fans.  _

“I was born for this, Clarke.” Lexa assured. “I will make it work.” 

Clarke looked uncertain. 

“But…” Lexa sighed, and Clarke glanced up hopefully. “You’re my priority, Clarke.” She admitted. “I love you more than anything in this world.” 

Clarke’s heart fluttered at Lexa’s confession. 

“Say the word, and I’ll change things, for you.” Lexa offered, and Clarke knew she wasn’t bluffing. “Your happiness means everything to me. If this is too much for you-” 

Clarke bit her lip. 

No. 

She wasn’t going to be hinderance, dammit. 

“It’s not.” She lied smoothly, unsure of where her false bravado was coming from. 

“I love you.” Lexa whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead, wrapping her arms tightly around Clarke. 

“I love you, too.” Clarke whispered back, feeling a lump form in her throat. 

Oh,  _ fuck.  _

This was going to end so,  _ so  _ badly for them. She had a telling feeling, as guilt seeped into her chest. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking! But you're probably wrong. If you've been listening to anything on the HSAU blog, you'll know. My advice: sit tight, we've planned this ride from beginning to end. Trust us.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of respite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a calm chapter!

Clarke was dusting the edge of a particularly wide frame up on the wall of the gallery, humming cheerfully to herself as she did so, unable to keep the dreamy smile off her face.

Why was she smiling?

It wasn’t that anything particularly amazing had happened. It was just that, since the semester had started, she and Lexa had been stressed out. What with the games, the finals, the exams, the revisions, the practices, the work hours, the twitter attacks…

It hadn’t been the easiest time for either girl.

But it seemed that every bad thing that reared its ugly head was intent on hibernating for winter break, and so Clarke was left feeling light, and blissful.

No more games, no more practices, no more twitter conversations (when Lexa wasn’t playing, the gossip died down immensely), no more exams, no classes, nothing.

Just her, and Lexa, and their family, spending winter break together.

It sounded absolutely _perfect._

And it all kicked off in about fifteen minutes, when her shift at the gallery ended, and Lexa would pick her up, and check out her work for the first time.

Things were finally, finally turning around.

Clarke was so lost in her joyous thoughts that she leapt up when she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder softly. She turned to notice Ilian, smirking at her as if he’d caught her doing something naughty.

“Ilian. Hey.” Clarke smiled, finishing her work.

“Do my eyes betray me, or is Clarke Griffin actually _smiling_ ?” Ilian teased.

“She does that, from time to time.” Clarke quipped in response. “Why, is it that rare of a sight?”

“Well, yeah. Lately, anyway. You smiled more in the beginning of the semester.” Ilian shrugged nonchalantly.

“You pay that much attention?” Clarke replied, slightly in awe of how unaware she was of how she presented herself.

“I _am_ an artist, Clarke. Being detail oriented is kind of our thing.” He replied, putting a hand on her back as he motioned to the painting she was dusting the frame of. “Besides, I like when you smile, Clarke. Your beauty is doubly as radiant-”

Before Ilian could finish his thought, the door opened, and in strode Lexa, looking like a damn movie star. She was the image of sexy confidence, wearing jeans and a tight shirt, a scarf wrapped around her neck, sunglasses on her head.

Clarke had been gaping at Ilian’s comment, but the cause quickly shifted to her attraction to Lexa.

Because _god damn._

“Lex.” Clarke nearly shoved Ilian aside in her rush to meet her girlfriend by the door.

Lexa wore a smile of pure adoration as she met Clarke halfway for a chaste greeting kiss, though Clarke added a little something extra, just to be a tease.

“Hi.” Clarke breathed, and Lexa grinned at her enthusiasm.

“Hey. You ready to get out of here?” Lexa replied with a chuckle. “After I see it, of course.”

Clarke nodded, leaning into Lexa when she slipped her arm around Clarke’s waist.

It felt so good to have time to do even simple things like this, with Lexa. Of course, every second spent with her best friend was something Clarke missed.

It wasn’t until Ilian cleared his throat that Clarke tore her gaze away from adoring forest green eyes.

“Oh.” Clarke fought the urge to smile. “Lex, this is Ilian. Ilian, this is my girlfriend, Lexa.”

Ilian wore a pearly smile, stepping forward to shake Lexa’s hand.

Lexa squared her shoulders, and Clarke swore to god, she was a goddamned peacock, fluffed feathers and all.

Clarke had to stifle her laughter.

Lexa, however, didn’t seem to think anything was particularly amusing, and her gaze said as much. For some reason, this Ilian guy rubbed her the wrong way.

And she even tolerated _Bellamy Blake._

“The famous Alexandria Woods.” Ilian announced loftily as he shook Lexa’s hand.

Her grip was crushing, but he seemed as if it didn’t bother him in the least.

“I’m Clarke’s-”

“-Art TA.” Lexa finished wryly. “So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. Clarke’s incredible.” Ilian replied, unfazed. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“She is.” Lexa replied, a proud smile making its way to her face.

“Guys, stop.” Clarke whined. “You’re flattering me. Lex, come on, let me show you around so we can go.”

Ilian made a noise, and Lexa glanced up at him.

“Clarke, I hate to do this to you, but you’ve still got ten minutes on the clock.”

Clarke blinked. “Oh! Yeah, sorry, I forgot Lexa was early. Let me go finish dusting the frames, and then-” Her voice trailed off as she rushed to grab the duster, clearly eager to be done with her menial work.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Lexa turned to face Ilian, jaw clenched.

“Is there an issue with Clarke leaving a few minutes early? Or is there something else that needs to be dusted?” Lexa drawled. “Your ego, maybe? Your power complex?”

Ilian smirked, to Lexa’s surprise. “You’re not used to people telling you no, are you, Woods? I’ll bet you just...clock in and out whenever you please.”

Lexa took a step forward, into his space. “I’m not one of your students, _Ilian._ I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but whatever it is: it ends here. Either you give Clarke what she deserves, not some menial job any idiot could waste their time with, or-”

“Or what?” Ilian folded his built arms, holding his ground, when Clarke resurfaced from the back.

“Lex, come look at this piece Dante commissioned! I love it! It reminds me of you.”

Lexa shot a threatening glare in Ilian’s direction. “You don’t want to know.” She muttered, leaving him with a disdainful glance as she came to Clarke’s side.

Ilian watched the way Lexa protectively curled an arm around Clarke’s waist, and he realized, it was working.

His eyes followed Lexa as she allowed Clarke to lean against her, the image of a proud girlfriend.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Clarke asked softly.

“Yes.” Lexa replied, taking in the piece carefully. “Is your piece back at the apartment inspired by this? I feel like there’s a connection to-”

“You noticed.” Clarke whispered in awe. “How’d you even have time?”

“I’m not lying when I tell you that your work fascinates me.” Lexa replied gently, and Clarke’s heart soared, because Lexa, the most important person in her world, didn’t think her work was stupid, or a waste of time, or education.

“Really?” Clarke asked, genuinely touched. “You’re _fascinated?_ ”

“Mhmm.” Lexa shrugged nonchalantly. “But I suppose that someone as beautiful as you, and I mean inside _and_ out, _should_ be creating and surrounded by art as beautiful as this.”

Clarke’s smile melted into a kiss.

She was kissing Lexa with reckless abandon in the middle of Dante’s art studio, in front of Ilian, she couldn’t have cared less.

Lexa kissed her back with a surprised expression, watching Clarke take her hand longingly.

“I want to get out of here.” She admitted softly. She turned to Ilian, who’d pretended to busy himself with some files. “Ilian, if I take these ten minutes, can I work double when I get back?”

Ilian looked to Lexa’s stern glare from behind Clarke, to Clarke’s pleading eyes.

“We close late friday nights.” He reminded. “Just you, me, and a whole lot of leftover champagne and cleaning.”

“Sounds great.” Clarke assured with a grin, missing Lexa’s _growl_ at that statement. “See you! Happy holidays!”

“You too, Clarke.” Ilian smirked at Lexa’s deadly expression.

But in the end, she got the last laugh, as she shouldered Clarke’s bag for her politely, and was rewarded with a searing kiss and then a husky, “I’ll make these extra ten minutes count, Woods.”

And a final view of Clarke discreetly slipping her hand into Lexa’s back pocket as they left him behind.

* * *

 

“Did you know you look like a raccoon when you play and your warpaint runs?” Clarke thought aloud as they waited for their food to arrive at their small table in the corner of their favorite little diner, just outside Polis.

Clarke was in heaven.

Uninterrupted time with her girlfriend, checking out the strip of cute overpriced boutiques, eating carelessly at a diner that reminded her of the Dropship back home, and absolutely nothing else.

And they were having a grand old time being grossly in love. They sat across each other, holding hands over the table, close enough to kiss each other (which they often did).

“I am a _commander,_ not a furry woodland creature-”

“It’s so cute.” Clarke gushed, tracing the imaginary warpaint on Lexa’s face with the tips of her fingers.

“You’re ruining my credibility as a lethal force on the field.” Lexa snorted, and Clarke grinned, kissing Lexa’s hand.

“Sorry.” Clarke offered, but Lexa’s smile told her it wasn’t necessary.

“Why’s our food taking so long?” Clarke wondered aloud. “We’d be done by now, usually.”

Lexa turned red, and Clarke cocked a brow.

“Lex…” Clarke drawled with a smirk. “What did you do?”

“I... _may_ have gone overboard when ordering for the two of us.” Lexa admitted.

Clarke looked shellshocked. “Overboard? As in, no “ _Clarke, I can’t eat that french fry! Do you know what that will do to my body before the game?”_

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Mockery is-”

“ _Not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.”_ Clarke mocked her lecture with a cheeky smile.

“It’s a good thing I’m in love with you.” Lexa grumbled.

Clarke laughed. “I know. So, Commander, what’d you order then? You deciding to live a little riskier? Live life on the edge? Get fries, maybe? A shake, even? Hah, imagine that.”

Just then, two waiters came, holding two enormous platters filled with dishes.

“Alright, Woods. We have: Two double cheeseburgers, one mega bacon deluxe, one oreo shake, one chocolate lover’s shake, a medium family pizza,  an order of the fried chicken tenders, a corn dog special, cheese fries, and...a side salad. Will that be all?”

Clarke couldn’t move her unhinged jaw.

Lexa nodded sheepishly, and they left, the plates piping hot.

“ _Lexa.”_ Clarke whispered in awe.

Lexa shrugged helplessly. “I haven’t had a single fried item in a _long_ time and it was season break, and I wasn’t sure what to order so I just...went nuts. And I mean whatever I don’t touch we can always give to-”

“Lexa.” Clarke’s laughter was beautiful, bubbly and careless. “This is hilarious. Oh my god. All that health food….it finally broke you.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Don’t take joy in my weakness.” She mumbled sheepishly.

Clarke grinned. “What will you eat first? Take a bite, oh my god, I need to live in this moment forever.”

“Uh...the double cheeseburger.” Lexa shrugged, tenderly going to reach for it. “It’s probably not even as good as I imagined.”

Clarke watched, head propped up on her elbow, and look of pure amusement on her features, watching Lexa sink her teeth into the burger. Her eyes _actually_ rolled back in pleasure, and the moan she made was obscene.

Clarke was _living._

“Fuck.” Lexa whispered weakly as she set the burger down, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, reverting back to her formal etiquette. “That was... _so_ good.”

“Yeah, baby.” Clarke grinned. “That’s what real food tastes like.”

Lexa’s lower lip trembled in awe and Clarke couldn’t help the adoration she felt.

“I hate my career path.” Lexa groaned as she eyed the burger reverently. “Clarke?”

“Babe.”

“Please don’t leave me if I eat everything on this table.”

“Lexa?”

“...yes?”

“This is the sexiest you’ve ever been to me.”

Lexa grinned, a cheeky grin that made Clarke’s heart stutter just a bit.

* * *

 

The following day found Clarke and Lexa in their laziest state possible. Surprisingly, Lexa was not grimacing at her lack of exercise, and Clarke wasn’t hurrying to read up on anything last minute.

Instead, they were getting a glimpse at their lives after college, and _fuck,_ was it enjoyable.

They’d slept in till ten, Lexa’s armed wrapped around Clarke in a vice-like grip, the two drifting on and off into sleep, whispering things to each other, the odd giggle here and there.

It was pure bliss, they couldn’t have been happier if they tried.

It was a simple lazy winter morning, the two snuggled up under the blankets, facing each other, propped up on their elbows.

The subject of their future had come up, and whatever doubts Clarke had during the semester were obliterated by Lexa’s excited little confessions.

Clarke had asked her how she imagined their future in maybe five or six years.

“Well, it depends.” Lexa thought aloud. “If I take the football route, or the company.”

Clarke bit her lip, gazing into Lexa’s eyes. “But what do you _want,_ baby?”

“You.” Lexa whispered tenderly, hands sliding to Clarke’s stomach. “A baby. Two. Maybe three, I don’t know. I will make sure you will want for nothing, and-”

“ _Lexa.”_ Clarke chuckled, but she was left slightly breathless at the admission. “That sounds...amazing. But I was talking about your career. And you have a very slick way of changing the subject.”

Lexa sighed, burrowing her face into Clarke’s neck momentarily, kissing her sweetly.

“What do _you_ want, for yourself?” Clarke specified.

Lexa sighed. “It’s not about what I want.” She mumbled.

Clarke stiffened, and Lexa knew she’d said the wrong thing.

Before Lexa could respond, Clarke was hounding her.

“What? What do you mean it’s not about what you want? It’s _exactly_ that, Lexa.”

“Clarke, I have-”

“What?” Clarke demanded, angry with Lexa for always giving herself the short end of the stick. Her beautiful, selfless, caring angel of a girlfriend.

“Clarke.” Lexa sighed, leaning back to glance at her. “I…” Her voice cut off. “I _cannot_ be a disappointment.”  

Clarke looked as if Lexa had slapped her. “And...that’s what you are when you follow your dreams? A disappointment? In that case, for pursuing art, I must be the biggest fucking disappointment-”

“Don’t say that.” Lexa reprimanded. “That’s different.”

“How?” Clarke snapped.

“There’s…” Lexa whispered. “There’s a lot riding on me, Clarke.”

Clarke glanced into Lexa’s familiar forest green eyes, and she saw something that nearly shattered her heart. Lexa, all vulnerable with misty eyes, telling Clarke about the weight of the world on her shoulders. Lexa, quietly admitting that she wasn’t even sure what her dream was, because it was so difficult to navigate her heart when her mind was poisoned by the words of her parents, her peers, everyone.

Everyone but Clarke.

“Lexa.” Clarke held her arms out, and Lexa slowly pressed herself into the contour of Clarke’s body, allowing her girlfriend to squeeze her in a tight embrace.

“Sometimes I wonder if I can do it.” Lexa murmured into the safety of Clarke’s embrace. “But then I remember I _have to,_ and-”

Clarke’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh my god.” She whispered, stroking Lexa’s back softly, calming her. “Lexa, _no._ This is so unhealthy. You don’t have to do anything, be anything, or impress anyone. Just do what you _love._ I would love you, even if you chose bank robbing as a profession. Which, by the way, please don’t.” Clarke added and she felt Lexa laugh into the crook of her neck, and it was _wondrous._

“Clarke, I don’t know, I can’t-”

“Hey, listen to me.” Clarke interrupted with a soft shake of her head.

Lexa huffed in response.

“You listening?”

“Yes, Clarke.”

“You can do _whatever you want._ I mean that. I don’t care about your parents’ opinion, or the media’s, or our friends’, or anyone but yours. If you’re happy, Lexa, I’m happy. It’s not about how much you can provide for others, it’s about how much you’re enjoying life yourself. I get that you’re selfless, Lexa. I know, believe me, I know. But what about you? I care about _you._ You should, too.”

Lexa went silent, pondering Clarke’s words. She nodded slowly, licking her lips. “I understand.”

Clarke knew that was the best she was going to get at the moment.

But hell, if she had to have some choice words with Lexa’s parents, the media, their friends, every single inhabitant of planet Earth that had something to say about Lexa’s choices- she would.

Anything for that carefree, cheeky smile. Anything for a happy future for her girlfriend.

“Sorry I got a little passionate.” Clarke mumbled, face flushed. “I just- _whoa_!”

Clarke was laughing at Lexa’s abrupt motion, snaking her arms around Clarke, dotting her neck with wet kisses before trailing up to her lips.

Clarke glanced up as Lexa hovered over her, eyes wide and bright with adoration.

She was smiling her cheeky smile, carefree and childish, and Clarke’s heart ached in her chest because, _god,_ she was so in love.

“That.” Clarke whispered, tapping two fingers against Lexa’s smile. Lexa kissed her fingers, and Clarke blushed. “That’s the only thing I care about. You, being _that_ happy.”

Lexa rewarded her with a searing, passionate kiss, and by the end of the morning, Clarke found herself wearing one of those blissed out, dopey smiles as well.

* * *

 

Clarke yawned as she stretched languidly, lavishing in the feeling of soft, silky sheets touching her bare skin as she moved. Besides her, Lexa stirred, pulling Clarke closer to her body in the haze of waking. It was a rare occasion that Lexa slept in, always far too busy to allow herself to waste the morning away in the comfort of her bed, with Clarke, just soaking in the early morning sun and allowing proper time for wakefulness.

“Morning sunshine,” Lexa greeted, eyes still closed, after pressing a kiss between Clarke’s shoulders.

“If only the world knew the mighty commander was such a snuggler,” Clarke teased, turning quickly to offer Lexa a quick kiss, morning breath be damned, before Lexa once more pulled her back firmly to her chest, holding her close.

“Are you complaining, Griffin?”

“Not a chance, Woods.”

It was nice. Peaceful. Just the two of them, the gentle noise of morning bustle drifting through from outside, tendrils of warmth reaching out from the sun and enveloping the entangled couple in a soft glow of light.

“I missed this,” Clarke admitted, turning so that she and Lexa were facing one another, noses touching, “you, me, lazy mornings.” Lexa hummed in agreement, hand moving to trace patterns on the back of Clarke’s hand.

“I’d forgotten what sleeping in felt like,” Lexa admitted, “it’s nice.” She cracked open an eye. “You’re nicer.”

“Quite the compliment there, lady-killer.”

“I already got the girl, didn’t I?” Lexa offered, arching an eyebrow at Clarke’s quip.

“You did,” Clarke conceded, moving once more to press a lazy kiss to Lexa’s lips, “and I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Lexa responded, never one to be outdone, even when it came to being a doting girlfriend. Her hand moved to cup Clarke’s face, brushing hair away from her eyes. “You’re radiant.” The two stayed there, soaking up the sun and each other, green eyes boring into blue, surrounded by love and familiarity and the pure sense of being _home_.

It was another hour of lazing, an activity that Lexa rarely participated in, before either of them moved out of the bed to move on with their day. Their flight back home left early the next morning, so it’d be a day of finishing up the packing and making sure that the appartment was clean and ready for their departure.

“Hey babe?” Lexa called from the living room, where she’d been dusting the fans as Clarke packed.

“Yeah?”

“Luke wanted to know if you and I wanted to swing by for a swim over at his dad’s house before we left? Soak in the last of the west-coast sun before we’re back to the freezing snow of the east.”

Clarke hadn’t seen much of Luke outside Lexa’s games and when he’d popped in on their midterm studying sessions, but from what she knew of him she liked. He was honest, and there was an easy-going air about him that made Clarke feel… _safe_.

“Swimming?” Lexa must have noticed the hesitation in her voice, because she was there in an instant, pulling Clarke into a tight hug.

“You could wear a rash guard if you want,” Lexa offered, “in the name of protecting your fragile skin from sunburns, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want.”

“No, I’ll go,” Clarke responded, leaning into Lexa’s embrace. “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

“Luke?” Lexa asked for clarification, and Clarke nodded. “Not at all, in fact, he’ll probably trade you scar stories.” Clarke tilted her head rather adorably, confused, and Lexa grinned at her. “Guess you’ll just have to go to find out.”

After a an hour or so more of cleaning― _actually_ cleaning, because if there were bugs anywhere near their belongings upon their return from break Lexa would have a conniption―before changing, Clarke pulling a shirt over her bikini, which Lexa had eyed appreciatively as they dressed.

“Woods!” he greeted cheerfully when they entered through the gate, as per instruction. “And Clarke!” Clarke offered him a wide smile while Lexa rolled her eyes, punching him softly on the arm. “Welcome to _mi casa_.”

“Is that the extent of your spanish?” Lexa questioned, putting her and Clarke’s bags down on the chairs strewn across the backyard.

“Pretty much,” Luke grinned, motioning to his swim trunks, patterned with little sombreros, “those, too. Bought them when I was down in Mexico last year.”

“You’re practically a native,” Lexa quipped, stripping off her shirt before diving gracefully into the pool, because everything Lexa did somehow defied human capabilities. Clarke made eye contact with her for a long moment once she emerged from the water, hair slicked back to her scalp, adorable little ears seeming even larger without the curls of hair usually tucked around them. Lexa smiled at her, encouraging, and Clarke slowly removed her shirt.

Like most people, Luke’s eyes drifted to her scar―well, not most people, _most people’s_ eyes wandered to her… _generous_ cleavage, but she was certain Lexa might actually kill him if his eyes strayed there―and Clarke felt a wave of panic hit her before he grinned, rather boyishly, and looked back up at her.

“Cool scar! We’ll trade.” He shucked off his shirt quickly, and Clarke suddenly understood Lexa’s comment earlier when she saw two long, continuous scars under the defined muscles of his pecs, moving upwards in an upside-down half-T manner.

“Top surgery,” he explained, “recovery was a bitch, but now I can walk around topless in public. Which is _amazing._ Male privilege at it’s finest. Yours?”

“Car crash,” Clarke admitted with a small wince, “less fun.” She didn’t need to elaborate, and Luke nodded sagely.

“It’s _wicked_ though.”

“Luke, nobody says wicked,” Lexa cut in from the pool.

“I do Woods, unless you want me to channel my inner californian and start calling things _tubular_ or _gnarly_.”

“I’ll have you running suicides for months.”

The afternoon was wonderful. Luke, like Lexa had predicted, was welcoming and understanding and charmingly boyish, and Clarke got along with him like a house on fire. It was _fun_ , pure and simple, messing around in the pool with the girl she loved and another friend Lexa had made all on her own.

Clarke knew how difficult it was for her, to form relationships without people expecting things from her, _wanting_ things from her. There were so few people who wanted to know _Lexa_ , instead of Alexandria Woods: Heiress and Football Prodigy.

“We should get going,” Lexa finally said, after a few hours of swimming and basking in the sun, trying to soak up as much warmth as they could before they travelled back east, “early flight and then an afternoon of…” she scrunched her nose in distaste “... _delinquents_.”

“You’re visiting a jail?” Luke asked after a moment’s hesitation, clearly confused.

“That’s what my friend group was fondly named,” Clarke cut in, “my lovely girlfriend likes to exaggerate how awful we are, though.”

“Who’s in it?”

“You know John Murphy?” Lexa asked.

“ _Oh_. Yeah.”

“You get the picture.”

Clarke elbowed Lexa in the side softly, rolling her eyes. Lexa _adored_ Murphy, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“We’re staying with her aunt and uncle for the night before we drive over to the Woods estate and meet up with our families,” Clarke continued, “a winter Woods wonderland.”

Luke waggled his eyebrows, and Clarke laughed.

“Lexa’s little brother will be there, so we’ll have to be _discrete_.” Lexa’s face fell at the thought and she scowled.

“Always the metaphorical cockblock, I knew I should have convinced my parents to leave him at the hospital.”

“ _Lexa!”_

* * *

“GRIFFSTER!”

Lexa winced as she turned, the tell-tale yell of Raven Reyes.

Though she attended college fairly close to Clarke and Lexa, all things considering, Lexa had grown used to only seeing her on special occasions, usually at parties, when the volume was already ridiculously loud. She’d almost forgotten about how purely ear-shattering the other girl could be in close proximity.

 _Almost_.

Raven barrelled into Clarke at full-speed, jumping happily onto Clarke’s back, and Clarke laughed as she stumbled, Lexa wordlessly reaching out to steady her and keep the two of them from tumbling to the ground.

“It’s too cold for you to be so uppity,” Lexa grumbled, pulling her jacket around her. California had truly spoiled her.

“One semester in the west and you’ve already lost your eastern edge,” Raven tsked, shaking her head as she somewhat awkwardly descended from Clarke’s back, “I’m disappointed in you, Woods.”

“Oh, how can my heart go on,” Lexa deadpanned, and Raven fixed her with a _look_.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Murphy,” she decided, nodding her head, “dealing with one sarcastic asshole is enough, I don’t need to worry about two of you.”

“Woods wishes she was on my level,” Murphy called out from where he was being enthusiastically noogied by Bellamy in the background. “But like, in Skywalker generations of experience, I’m Anakin and she’s _Rey.”_

“At least I have both hands,” Lexa shrugged, accepting Raven’s hug after a moment’s stare-off.

“ _For now_ ,” Murphy muttered ominously.

Murphy’s apparent plans to murder her aside, Lexa felt surprisingly at home back at Arkadia. She’d missed the familiarity, the comfort of a relatively smaller town, and the general atmosphere. She’d also somewhat missed the chaos of the delinquents all together at once, not that she would admit it out loud.

“I happen to like Lexa’s hands, so if you could kindly leave them on her person, that’d be great.” Lexa smirked and pressed a kiss on Clarke’s head when her girlfriend made the comment, relishing in the way Murphy’s nose scrunched in the universal gesture of _ew, didn’t need to think about that._

“You ready for a night of absolutely hating ourselves?” Anya asked, sliding up next to her cousin. Lexa rolled her eyes but nodded.

“We really made a mistake, getting caught up with delinquents,” Lexa agreed.

She and Clarke had barely had time to unload their belongings in the guest house of Indra and Gustus’ home before Indra had chased them out, claiming that she wasn’t equipped to handle a gaggle of trouble-making college students in her home. Jasper had only made an appearance at the Pine household _once_ , but Indra still practically hissed whenever he was anywhere _near_ her.

“We’re gonna need supplies tonight,” Raven instructed, cajoling them into the Blake residence, which Aurora had generously gifted them for their delinkru reunion, specifically, the game room, which was where _the magic happened_ , according to Bellamy. “I’m thinking slutty brownies. And just a lot of greasy junk food shit. Because Jas gets the munchies like nobody’s business.”

“I just like food,” Jasper defended from his position sprawled across one of the couches, playing Overwatch on the tv.

“No giant balloons to take you up up and away this time, though,” Murphy chuckled, and the group collectively winced at the memory, Jasper rubbing the top of his head as though there was still a bump there.

“What exactly is the plan for tonight?” Lincoln asked upon entrance to the room, immediately heading in the direction of Anya and Lexa.

“We are going to get stoned and shitfaced and eat questionably created food and have a game night,” Raven responded matter-of-factly, “unwind, relax, catch up, all the good stuff.”

“Do we have alcohol that isn’t moonshine or rocket fuel?”

“Not that we _need_ anything other than moonshine or rocket fuel, but yes, for you weaker folk, we’ve got beers and fruity shit and also a variety of tequilas and some wine Bell’s brought back from abroad.”

“Wine?”

“Yeah, because we’re classy bitches.”

Anya rolled her eyes fondly, a small smile tugging at the ends of her lips, and Lexa felt a surge of affection roll through her. Anya had always been there for Lexa when she needed her most, and seeing her happy was always a wonderful thing. Even if her happiness meant that Lexa had to deal with Raven Reyes on a semi-regular basis.

“I assume you’re going to make Anya, Linc and I run around like headless chickens through supermarkets while you pregame?” Lexa asked for clarification, and Raven grinned and went to high-five her, clapping her own hands together when Lexa playfully refused her.

“You get me, Woods.”

* * *

 

“So you and Raven?” Lincoln asked as he shouldered a bag of ice like it was nothing, the three of the _Kru_ drawing sexual glances from just about every single teen in a twenty-five mile radius.

There would’ve been a time where Lexa would’ve returned some of those smirks, or shown a modicum of interest.

But then came Clarke Abigail Griffin, and Lexa forgot that other women even existed.

And she didn’t miss it, to be honest.

Clarke was like her own personal goddess, and Lexa was keen on never letting her go.

Thus, the interrogations began.

“Together.” Anya confirmed with a whimsical smirk.

“And what happened to Bellamy?” Lexa queried.

“That’s...off the table.” Anya replied with a shrug.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I walked in on you three doing it _on_ _a table_.” Lexa smirked, giving Lincoln a swift high five.

“Coming from you?” Anya jabbed. “You and Clarke are like _rabbits-”_

Lexa’s cheeks burned red. “We don’t do it _that_ often-”

“Last night?”

“...Yes.”

“Yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“The day before?”

“Yes.”

“....This morning?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a while!” Lexa defended meekly. “I missed her.” She added softly.

“You two _live_ together.” Anya snorted.

“Still. We’ve been busy.” Lexa murmured, and Lincoln patted her shoulder in silent sympathy.

“In that luxury apartment? You probably get lost.” Anya scoffed teasingly.

“It’s really small.” Lexa pointed out with a lifted brow.

Anya didn’t look convinced.

“Raven and I share a shoebox of a dorm room. We used to have this _insufferable_ roommate, _Kelsey,_ but she woke up to Raven’s miniature explosion-”

Lincoln cocked a brow.

“ _NOT_ the sexual kind.” Anya huffed. “She was tinkering with something and it blew up. At four a.m. Suddenly, Kelsey the sociable frosh turned into Kelsey, the shell of a woman. Tragic, really.”

“Wait, wait.” Lincoln looked thoughtful. “You’re telling me Raven didn’t blow it up on _purpose?”_

“No.” Anya shook her head. “She said she was tinkering with a little prototype of hers and-”

“Was Kelsey flirtatious with you?” Lexa cut in.

Anya blinked. “I mean, she was friendly and she felt up my leg when I told her I was a kicker, but- _Oh.”_

Lincoln laughed. “Sounds like Raven was defending her territory.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “There are _so_ many ways to get that message across without blowing up a lithium ion battery-”

“Clarke just kisses me.” Lexa replied cheekily.

“Yeah?” Anya smirked. “Remember when Clarke admitted she had a crush on Linc and me, before you?”

“Shut up, Anya.”

The trio laughed as they bought their drinks, Lincoln flashing his fake ID without hesitation as they made it through unscathed. When they got into the car, there was a moment of peaceful silence before Lincoln spoke up.

“Seriously, is everything okay with you guys?” He offered a moment for them to voice their opinions.

“Yes.” Anya sighed. “Except I’m directionless in terms of a career. You?”

Lincoln rubbed his neck. “I feel like I wanted to take a gap year but now I can’t fuck up my living situation with O, and I’m in this in between stage..” He shook his head. “And you, Woods?”

“I worry about so many things.” Lexa whispered. “My career, my image, my future with Clarke, my parents, my-”

“Hey.” Anya murmured as she opened her arm, and Lexa leaned her head on her cousin’s shoulder, grateful to have some catharsis.

“So, the Kru takes on college. Not as simple as we imagined.” Lincoln laughed from behind the wheel.

“No.” Lexa agreed softly. “But we’re tough, aren’t we?”

“The toughest.” Anya chimed in, running her hands through Lexa’s hair, soothing her cousin as they made the trip home.

* * *

 

Clarke had _missed_ this.

Missed being surrounded by her little family, all of them together at once, dicking around in the Blake game room and just being together. Of course, she saw Murphy almost every day, and Raven and Octavia fairly often, but it wasn’t the same as before, as high school, when there was scarcely one delinquent found without the company of at least two others.

Though she’d thought on the subject before, Clarke couldn’t help but realize how much she’d taken it for granted. The closeness, the sense of community, the easy accessibility to the found family she’d constructed for herself.

She had Lexa, of course―her best friend and love of her life, the woman she was going to marry one day, the woman she was going to raise a family with, little bundles of energy wreaking havoc around their house―and Lexa was more than enough. Lexa, simply put, was _home_. But even a pair, no matter how perfectly suited they were for one another, got lonely sometimes, and Clarke’s reunion with the rest of the delinquents soothed an ache in her chest that she’d grown accustomed to over the past semester.

She knew that Lexa missed her _kru_ too.

While both Anya and Lincoln were close by, much like Octavia and Raven, Clarke knew Lexa missed their guidance, their company. They’d been with her much longer than Clarke had, and their bond mirrored that of the delinquents, if not a bit more refined and a lot less chaotic. Anya and Lincoln had been there for Lexa through the dinner parties and the vicious social climbers and the pressures of a childhood under the spotlight, and Clarke was endlessly grateful to them for keeping Lexa’s head afloat.

She knew that Lexa missed Aden, too, more than she would admit. Seeing him, happy and with a genuine chance at the remainder of a normal childhood would do her good, Clarke thought.

The three of them were still off collecting whatever it was Raven had deemed necessary for the reunion, Jasper and Monty texting them additional items intermittently. The beginnings of a Mario Kart tournament were in the making, Murphy and Bellamy shoving each other as they battled for second place, Raven cackling somewhat crazily besides them, content in her first place position.

“It’s rainbow road, and I’m the gayest out of the three of us so _therefore_ I have to win. Otherwise it’s homophobia.”

“That’s not how homophobia works!” Murphy scowled.

“Listen, anything that minorly inconveniences me is homophobic. Or biphobic if you wanna get technical. But _still_. Homophobic.”

“How’s _this_ for homophobia?”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR BLUE SHELL MURPHY! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

“There’s no room for friendship in Mario Kart.”

Clarke smiled fondly when Bellamy intercepted Raven’s lunge for Murphy, who was smirking at her smugly. Monty and Jasper were on the floor in front of them, braiding Octavia’s hair while Clarke leaned on the snack table, soaking it all in.

“Clarke, come join the braiding circle,” Octavia offered, and Clarke sat down happily, Monty’s fingers immediately twisting into her hair, the pressure and constant movement soothing.

“How’s the freaky genius stuff going?” Clarke asked over the yells of Raven, Bellamy, and Murphy.

“Exhausting,” Monty deadpanned, still focused on braiding Clarke’s hair, “so much math, so many numbers.”

“But also _so_ many explosions,” Jasper added excitedly, “none of the kindergarten high school level shit. _Real_ explosions.”

“Don’t let Raven let you hear that,” Octavia chuckled, “she might abandon Anya and California just to go make things explode.”

“And then California would have to deal with a moody Anya,” Clarke added, smiling, “I don’t think it could handle that.”

“I don’t think the _world_ could handle a moody Anya,” Jasper shuddered, “she’s _scary_.”

“Please,” Raven scoffed, eyes focused on the screen in front of her, “An is just like Woods, and Linc for that matter. They’re all just a bunch of lovesick puppies. She’s soft and lovely and _adorable_. Not that she’d ever be caught dead acting like that around other people.”

“I think trying to look like a hardass runs in the family,” Clarke agreed, leaning further back into Monty’s ministrations as he continued to gently tug the strands of her hair into place. “Well, except for Aden. He’s just openly the human embodiment of a puppy.”

“I forgot about pipsqueak if we’re being completely honest,” Raven said after a pause, “how’s he doing?”

“Good,” Clarke answered, but any further discussion on the topic of the sophomore was cut off by Raven once more threatening to murder Murphy, followed by a string of curse words in spanish that Clarke didn’t need to understand to comprehend the point.

“Rae, drink some more moonshine, we don’t want your blood pressure going through the roof,” Monty mentioned casually, moving a hand away from Clarke’s hair to hand Raven another cup, which she readily accepted, throwing it back quickly and wincing at the taste before once more returning her attention to attempted murder over Mario Kart.

“So, Jas, any love interests for you?” Octavia asked once things had settled a bit more. “Find the nerdy girl of your dreams at freaky genius school?”

“Not yet,” Jasper sighed dramatically, shaking his head, “it’s just me, Monty, and JJ now. The ladies just don’t seem to fall for the Jasper Jordan charm.”

“That’s because there’s no such thing as _Jasper Jordan charm_ ,” Monty snickered, and his best friend shot him an affronted expression.

“Betrayed by my own best friend! I’m hurt, Mon, I’m _hurt_.”

“You’ll recover.”

After a few more minutes, the three members of the kru arrived, carrying hefty bags of _supplies_ , as Raven was calling them. Bellamy put an end to the game of Mario Kart before Raven and Murphy killed each other before standing up to help unload, the others following suit.

“Reyes!” Anya snapped, sounding angry. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

It was apparent that she wasn’t actually angry, however, when Raven pulled Anya closer by the belt loops of her jeans, the two meeting in a charged kiss.

“Yes, An?” Raven murmured cheekily.

“I forgot.” Anya mumbled, giving Raven an appreciative butt pat, the two laughing in their embrace.

“Nice braids,” Lexa grinned when Clarke moved to greet her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “who did them?”

“Monty.”

“I’ll braid yours too if you want, Lexa.”

“Later, yeah, that’d be great.”

“Monty, you’re on slutty brownie duty because I don’t trust the majority of those gathered here in the kitchen, especially not Aurora’s. It’s too nice to be blown up.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Raven,” Jasper scowled, sticking his tongue out at her, “you’ve set things on fire in kitchens just as much as I have, if not more.”

“That’s besides the point, Jordan. Anyways, we’re gonna start this night off easy, with some Mario Kart, this new card game I bought called Spaceteam because space is fucking cool, and then some good old fashioned truth or dare. Also, we might pull out the karaoke machine but if we do that just know that Bell, you’re banned from using it.”

“My singing is amazing!”

“Yeah, amazingly _awful_ ,” Octavia muttered, readily accepting the high-five Raven offered her.

While Monty strayed into the kitchen, Clarke handed Lexa a glass of moonshine which she took gratefully.

“It feels good to relax,” Lexa said as the two of them sprawled out on one of the couches, Clarke tucked in between Lexa’s legs, her head resting on the football player’s stomach. “Even though this moonshine tastes like literal ass.”

“I heard that!” Monty called from the kitchen. “If you don’t like it you can always make your own!”

“It’s better than the rocket fuel at least,” Clarke offered, and Lexa nodded, taking another drink.

“There’s wine if you want some, Woods, I’ll swap you.” Lexa and Bellamy exchanged glasses and Clarke grinned at the interaction. Regardless of how small and insignificant it might seem, Lexa and Bellamy had come a far way from their early days of antagonism―so had Clarke and Lexa, for that matter, but that much was evident―and the fact that Lexa could be so at ease and comfortable around him now spoke measures on the improved state of their tentative friendship.

Sure, it was still a pissing contest between the two of them sometimes, because Lexa was a preening peacock by nature and Bell loved to rile people up, but there was a fondness there now that hadn’t existed before, a mutual respect based on their love for Clarke―in different manners, but love all the same―and partially based on the fact that, even though they weren’t still together, there was still a soft spot in Anya’s heart for him. Similar to the way Lexa had begrudgingly accepted Raven’s friendship, she could never ostracize anyone who made her _kru_ happy, whether they annoyed her somewhat or not.

Once everyone was beyond the point of sobriety, things got fairly messy fairly quickly.

The card game, Spaceteam, as it turned out, had little to do with space and more to do with yelling so loudly that temporary hearing loss was a highly probable outcome.

“It literally says _a cooperative shouting game_ , Rae, I don’t think this is going to end well,” Clarke frowned, reading over the instructions as they opened up the box.

“It’ll be fine, Griff,” Raven brushed off, “you worry too much.”

“Alright, so we have to build the spaceship and there are different cards that make up the image of the spaceship scattered throughout the deck, but we have to get through a bunch of different problems to get to them?”

“I’m too drunk for any of this to make sense,” Murphy groaned.

“No, we got this Murph, Clarke, gimme.” Raven snatched the instructions from her hands, quickly reading them.

“Alright, so each problem requires tools that other players have and you just have to get someone to give you that tool and then you’re solved the problem and you move onto the next card in your deck, yadda yadda yadda, okay, yeah, seems easy enough, we’ve got this. Oh, and it’s timed.”

The first round was a trial, in which most everything was calm as they tried to figure out what they were doing, but once they understood, things got loud.

“LISTEN I NEED THE TWO POGO STICKS CROSSED IN AN X!”

“SOMEONE GIVE ME A FUCKING STAR I HAVE THE TWO GEARS I JUST NEED A STAR!”

“WHERE IS THE GODDAMN DISTORTION GRILL!”

“LEXA I KNOW YOU HAVE THIS GIVE IT TO ME!”

“SOMEONE GIVE ME THE FUCKING DISTORTION GRILL!”

“I’M LOST IN SPACE SOMEONE PULL ME IN!”

“JASPER CAN’T TALK UNTIL ALL OF US TOUCH HIM!”

“I KNOW ONE OF YOU HOES HAS THIS FUCKING DISTORTION GRILL―”

After a neighbor from across the street came banging on the front door demanding they shut up or he’d call the police, they moved on to just getting fucked.

Jasper was passed out in a lump on the floor, Monty not far from him, snoring lightly. Bellamy and Murphy had taken to talking animatedly about giraffes on the loveseat and Raven, Octavia, Anya, and Lincoln were eating the remains of the food. Clarke and Lexa remained in their comfortable position curled up with one another, Clarke sipping on a cold glass of water in order to try and avoid the inevitable hangover the next morning while Lexa traced soft patterns on her back.

“I’d forgotten how annoying they were in person,” Lexa mumbled, and Clarke grinned, pressing a quick kiss to Lexa’s hand.

“You love them.”

“I love _you_ ,” Lexa corrected, and even though Clarke had heard it a thousand times over the words never failed to make her heart stutter, because Lexa Woods _loved_ her, “I tolerate them because you love them and they make you happy, for whatever reason.”

“They grow on you,” Clarke persisted.

“They give me migraines,” Lexa smirked, never one to give in, “the only ones I tolerate are Murphy and Monty. The rest are much too immature and volatile.” She nodded in the direction of a hastily constructed volcano Raven and Jasper had decided was a wonderful idea turned terribly wrong, observable by the coke stains on the carpet that they’d have a tell of a time trying to remove later.

“I’ve heard cuddling is a very effective cure for migraines.”

“Mhm? Is that so?”

“It is,” Clarke insisted, putting her arms around Lexa’s waist as she nestled further into her, “my mom’s a doctor, I would know.”

“I guess I’ll have to listen to your medical expertise, then,” Lexa grinned, “but let’s go to the guest room? I don’t want to get a crick in my neck.”

“Only if you carry me.”

In a moment, Clarke felt herself being gently lifted into the air, eyes still shut, the comforting grip of Lexa’s arms around her, her nose still pressed against Lexa’s shirt, inhaling and revelling in their sheer closeness.

Winter break, though it was only a few short days into it, was one of the best things Clarke could have asked for. She and Lexa had truly underestimated the weight of both of their schedules and the stress and workload of college, accustomed to the easy days of Arkadia, and being back there, back _home_ was like a blessed moment back in the past, where life was simpler and they had less obligations and more time to just be them. Clarke and Lexa.

Lexa lowered Clarke gently onto the bed in the guest room and Clarke sighed contentedly, pulling her girlfriend down with her.

“Come snuggle,” Clarke demanded, and she could feel more than hear Lexa chuckle, the vibrations resonating through her chest and into Clarke’s ears as Lexa pulled her infinitely closer, pressing soft, adoring kisses to the crown of Clarke’s head.

“Your wish is my demand, love.”

They stayed there like that, silent, for a long stretch of time, taking a moment to just _be_.

Another perk of the holiday so far had been the lack of social media presence, as Lexa’s popularity seemed to build up only around her game days and when she was active, tweeting about school or work or practice. In the lull between games, the buzz around her had settled, people instead choosing to focus on the latest celebrity hookups and drama, and so she and Clarke had been granted a dose of well-earned peace, especially for Clarke.

The constant attacks on her character had lulled, people growing disinterested in a target that didn’t seem to rise to their words―she did, but with Murphy’s coaching was slowly learning to ignore them and instead reaffirm her own self confidence, as she knew she didn’t need the opinions of people who didn’t know her to dictate her perception of herself―and her anxiety had curbed somewhat. She’d spent so much time on high-alert that allowing herself to relax, truly relax, felt _invigorating_ , as though she’d been completely born again.

Being here, with Lexa, surrounded by the friends who she loved and who loved her fiercely in return, with the promise of seeing her mother just a day or so in the future, Clarke was at peace.

“I can hear you thinking,” Lexa muttered against Clarke’s collarbone, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, “want to talk about it?”

“No,” Clarke responded just as softly, taking a moment to lace their hands together, taking immense joy in how they always seemed to fit perfectly―she didn’t think she’d ever get over the sensation of being so in love, of having found someone who complemented her so perfectly and made her feel _safe―_ before she continued, “nothing worth talking about, really.”

“Everything you think is worth talking about,” Lexa continued sleepily, and Clarke felt her heart swell, “you’re lovely and I love you.”

“Maybe another time,” Clarke offered instead, and she felt Lexa smile.

“Ok,” Lexa said while she yawned, jaw stretching as she settled in closer to her girlfriend, “I’m always here for you, you know that, right? I love you.”

Clarke smiled.

“Yeah, I know baby. I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the christmas special on here (it's a oneshot) it's up on my "works" page! Check it out, it's the events following this chapter! If you forgot what happened, I recommend reading it! It's basically fluff and smut filled fun.


	6. Chapter 6

 

“You.”  _ A kiss.  _ “Me.”  _ Another kiss.  _ “A nice house.”  _ Kiss.  _ “No picket fences. I hate cliches. Let’s do a huge iron gate.”  _ Kiss.  _ “Oh, and a dog...and a cat.”  _ Kiss.  _ “Kids. Preferably seven.”  _ Kiss. _

Clarke started laughing against Lexa’s kisses, ruining their form. “Not seven.” She whispered, feeling completely safe and content in Lexa’s arms, even on the cold hard bench of the locker room. 

“Six.” Lexa whispered, tugging on Clarke’s bottom lip with her own. 

“Are you going to be paying your dues in the form of child birth?” Clarke quipped. 

“I could.” Lexa offered. “If I don’t go pro-” 

“Okay then forget it.” Clarke amended. “I didn’t suffer through all this just to have you become an accountant.” 

Lexa nodded, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry you suffered.” She whispered sincerely. “But it’s almost over. Just this game, win or lose, and I’m done making you suffer. I won’t play again, next season, if you want.” 

Clarke smiled against her lips, rolling her eyes. “Of course I want you playing.” 

If only Lexa knew  _ how  _ Clarke was suffering. 

“Let’s not talk about football.” Lexa mumbled. 

“But your game is in an hour.” Clarke replied softly. 

“I don’t care.” Lexa shrugged, circling her arms a bit tighter around Clarke. She eyed her grandmother’s “promise” ring on Clarke’s finger, and she felt butterflies bursting within her. It was the single greatest feeling in the world. “Clarke?” Lexa spoke softly. 

Her voice was so vulnerable, her emerald doe eyes so fragile and wide, Clarke wanted to hold her forever. 

“Yes?” Clarke whispered, caressing her cheek with all the love she could muster into the motion. 

“If…” Lexa began quietly. “If I...asked you to marry me. Right here, right now. No game, no school, no obligations. I would fill up the car, and we’d just...drive. We could burn through the account in my name. We could travel. We could forget all our responsibilities, except to each other. Would you say yes?” 

Clarke couldn’t help her watery eyes and her smile as she thought about that sort of life with Lexa. Sure, it was a far cry from what they would actually have to live with, but it was so beautiful. Life with Lexa, living day by day. 

Clarke kissed the corner of Lexa’s mouth, slowly inching into her lips. They kissed for a moment, hungry lips and soft gasps, until Clarke answered, “Of course I would. I’d go anywhere with you, Lex.” 

And for just a moment, it was a possibility. 

And then the calls of, “C’mon Woods. Get your ass out here, move it!” Reverberated into the locker room, and the dream dissipated like smoke in the air. 

“Are you nervous?” Clarke asked, per their ritual. 

“The Commander doesn’t get nervous.” Lexa replied with a little smirk. Clarke moved to get up, and Lexa stood, stretching a little, then lacing her hand with Clarke’s. She looked absolutely fierce in her black uniform with red trim, her eyes in full “war paint” courtesy of Clarke. 

“I love you.” Clarke whispered. “Good luck out there.” 

Lexa quirked a brow, squeezing Clarke’s hand. “C’mon.” She whispered. 

Clarke blinked. “What?” 

“I want you benchside.” Lexa murmured. “I want to see you every chance I get. It’s good motivation.” 

“Lexa, I-” 

“You told me that you couldn’t, at the beginning of the season, because I wasn’t the star. Well, now I am, and I want you there. I want to show you off and kiss you when the cameras are rolling on me.” Lexa whined. “If...you want to, of course!” She added softly. “I just missed having you in your usual spot.” 

Clarke’s heart melted, at that. 

And, fuck it, the insults couldn’t be any worse. 

She wanted her seat beside Lexa. She wanted to cheer her on, to be the first one to hold her, win or lose. 

“Alright.” Clarke smiled even wider when Lexa kissed her hand in excitement, and the two made their way out. 

* * *

Both good news and bad news came of Lexa’s win of the division championship. 

First, headlines. Lexa saved two newspapers with headlines reading :WOODS SNAGS MVP AWARD, LEADS POLIS PANTHERS TO DIVISION CHAMPIONSHIP. 

Why? 

Because the featured image was Lexa, grinning, lifting Clarke up into her arms as the game clock ran out, the two in a loving embrace. 

Okay, so  _ that _ part? 

Amazing. 

Clarke was too fond of the picture, so caught up in how happy they both looked, that she didn’t dare open her social media. She didn’t want to spoil the euphoria. 

And then, there was the victory  _ celebrations.  _

_ Goddamn.  _

Clarke and Lexa spent the weekend in bed. And the kitchen counters. And the dining table. And the couches. And, at night, once,  _ or  _ twice, on the balcony recliner. 

So...yeah. She couldn’t really complain. She was blissed out, and she and Lexa had rekindled a flame of passion that they had really only seen over winter break. 

They’d made video calls to their friends and family, ordered a lot of takeout, and then locked their door on friday and settled in for the weekend. 

On Sunday evening, Lexa was informed that the team had a chance to compete in the next series of playoffs, and that she’d have to take a short trip to Colorado, where the tournament was being held. She’d leave on Monday, and come back on Wednesday, a relatively short trip. 

She’d hung up the phone, informed Clarke, and then was promptly tackled back into bed, where they resumed what they’d left off. 

It wasn’t ‘till a few rounds after, that they’d come face to face, tangled in each other, breathing heavily, sweat slicked bodies glued together, that they talked about it. 

“You are…” Clarke rasped. “Covered in hickeys.” She smiled proudly. 

Lexa smiled softly, a rosy tint to her cheeks. “You too.” She kissed Clarke’s chest, right below her left breast, where a bruise was blooming. 

“That was…” Clarke leaned a bit closer to Lexa. 

“One of the best weekends of our lives?” Lexa supplied. 

Clarke nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah.” 

“I don’t really know what happened.” Lexa admitted sheepishly. “I just...felt it.” 

“I was insatiable.” Clarke offered, rubbing Lexa’s arm. 

“It felt good.” Lexa told her, kissing her head. “Maybe because we thought we were free, for a moment.” She teased. “Listen, Clarke, about tomorrow-” 

“It’s fine.” Clarke wasn’t lying. She’d become accustomed to Lexa’s absences, so long as they were short. Maybe Luna was onto something. The more (tolerable) distance Lexa put between them, the more independent she realized she could be. 

“Really?” Lexa queried. “Because-” 

“I’m happy for you.” Clarke told her, kissing her jaw. “I don’t like being alone, but that’s what Murphy is for.” She teased. 

Lexa frowned. “I’m sorry.” She told her, honestly. “I can’t be enough.” 

Clarke didn’t bite on her bait, deciding to take it easy, instead. “Well, Murphy has you covered in most departments. Except he doesn’t hold me at nights.” 

“I should hope so.” Lexa snorted softly, and Clarke smiled. 

“You’re more than enough. You’re everything.” Clarke promised softly. “Now quit your bellyaching, Woods.” 

Lexa nodded slowly, pulling Clarke even closer in her arms. 

“Do you know what I’ll miss? Especially after this weekend?” Clarke whispered temptingly. 

Lexa shook her head, eyes wide with love and adoration. 

Clarke took Lexa’s hand, brushing over her breast, settling over her heart. “Do you feel that?” She asked. 

Clarke’s heart was thumping a mile a minute. 

Lexa’s eyes widened even more. “Clarke.” She whispered. 

“It does that whenever I see you.” Clarke confessed with a little smile. “You’re not the only one.” 

Lexa carefully maneuvered to kiss over her heart, and Clarke wanted to burst with happiness. Clarke guided her hands, still clutching her heart, down to the pit of her stomach. 

“You can’t feel this.” Clarke whispered. “But...I get this hot, intense feeling…” She told Lexa, her words dripping like melting chocolate. “Whenever I see you. It makes my legs weak, my mouth dry, and I get…” She dipped Lexa’s fingers between her legs, humming in satisfaction when Lexa groaned. “ _ Wet.” _

Lexa moved to straddle her, but Clarke kept her at bay. “Uh uh uh.” She tsked. “How  _ ever  _ am I going to wait  _ two whole  _ days for you?” 

Lexa wore a playful smirk. “...Lines of... _ communication  _ can be arranged, Clarke.” 

Clarke squealed when Lexa pounced, dropping loving kisses down her neck. 

Lexa had this beautiful ability to make her forget every negative thing in her life, even for just the time they were together. With Lexa close by, life was always good, it seemed. 

When Lexa left…

Less so. 

* * *

Lexa’s departure came swiftly, and she had to leave before classes were in session. She woke early, showered, and came out to find Clarke had already made her breakfast. 

The two shared a quick meal together, and then Clarke walked Lexa to the door, only to be picked up and kissed just about one hundred times. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Lexa murmured, kissing Clarke’s lips with fervor, Clarke’s legs wrapped around her waist. 

“I love you more, my champion.” Clarke teased softly. “I can’t believe you’re ditching me in the heat of our celebration. Who else will I celebrate with?” 

“No one, I hope.” Lexa chuckled. “We’re not stopping, we’re just moving it to mobile.” She teased back, holding her phone. 

“Expecting victory nudes, if you win?” Clarke lifted a brow. 

“More like consolation lingerie pics. We’re up against some tough teams, I don’t think we’re ready.” Lexa replied, and Clarke stroked her cheek. 

“Listen. I know you don’t believe this, but Alexandria Anastasia Woods, I will always love you, rain or shine, win or lose.” Clarke told her. “Because I love you for  _ you,  _ not your weird phallic looking trophy in the living room.” 

Lexa made a face. “It was really long.” She mumbled, and Clarke stole a kiss. 

“Clarke.” Lexa murmured. “If you need anything-” 

“I know, I know. I will call my girlfriend.” Clarke rolled her eyes fondly, reaching for Lexa’s butt to give it a playful squeeze. “Be safe.” She murmured. 

“I will.” Lexa promised. 

“Are you nervous?” Clarke asked with a light smile. 

“Don’t ask me that now.” Lexa grinned. “We’ll stick to our ritual. I’ll text you in the locker room.” 

Clarke smirked. “Serious dedication, Woods.” 

“Well, I  _ am  _ talking to my future wife, here.” 

Clarke swooned, and Lexa wore a charged smile out the door that morning. 

But now, it was time for a reality check. She eyed her cellphone gloomily. With Lexa gone, expecting her to text, she almost certainly needed it on her person. 

She decided she was going to log onto her social media anyway. If she didn’t want it to bother her, desensitization was the first step. Right?  

* * *

Winter break and the holidays had been a wonderful respite from the blunt force of social media, but with the attention of Lexa’s division championship win, in addition to her recently claimed MVP title, it had returned with a fervor unlike Clarke had seen before. 

Clarke was doing her best to ignore them, of course, as the vast majority of Lexa’s fan base―and it was strange, to think that her girlfriend had an honest-to-god  _ fan base  _ that extended beyond herself and Aden and a few giggling high schoolers at Arkadia―were nothing less than wonderful, but those who weren’t were very vocal in their distaste of Lexa’s choice of partner. Clarke knew, logically, that it was irrational to get so worked up about the comments of faceless people on the internet who she would likely never meet in her life, but there was an irrationality at the base of all insecurities, and Clarke’s were no different. 

But, regardless, Lexa’s national fame had skyrocketed, and along with it, the number of rabid fangirls thirsting after her. 

“Clarke, baby, I’m home!” Clarke couldn’t help but smile as Lexa walked into their shared apartment with a sing-song greeting, pressing a quick kiss to Clarke’s cheek as she passed her.

“Grocery shopping was a success I see,” Clarke noted, nodding at the many bags Lexa had hanging off of her arms, because  _ second trips are for the weak, Clarke, and the commander is not weak _ , and Lexa smiled at her warmly. 

“I brought you back some freshly baked cinnamon rolls because you were complaining about cramps earlier and I know sugar helps.” Lexa presented her with the heavenly smelling box and Clarke released a sinful little noise as she inhaled, pulling a grinning Lexa in for a kiss. 

“Have I mentioned lately that I love you more than life itself?”

“Maybe a few times, but I could always use some reminding,” Lexa laughed, “enjoy your sugar while I start making us dinner.”

It was easy to forget that there were now literal hoards of screaming teenage girls who would likely go so far as to sacrifice their kidneys for a chance to even catch a glimpse of Lexa in person in moments like these, when they were so caught up in one another, reminiscent of their days back at Arkadia, when life was simpler and they didn’t have the pressures of college and the looming responsibilities of adult life weighing down their shoulders. Here, in the kitchen of their apartment, they could just be Clarke and Lexa, the same teenagers who had fallen so hopelessly in love with one another as they had in the flower fields back at their high school. 

“Did you see the article that Buzzfeed posted about you earlier?” Clarke called out after a bite of sugary goodness. 

“The one that was pretty much just a compilation of pictures of my abs?”

“Yeah, that’s the one, I think it was called,  _ Thirty-One Thirst-Worthy Pictures of Lexa Woods, Your New Woman Crush.” _

Raven had linked it to her as soon as the article was released, along with a series of keyboard smashes to properly emphasize how funny she found it. Clarke had half a mind to reply to whoever wrote the article that those pictures had  _ nothing  _ on her own personal collection of what were, in her opinion, mouth-watering images of the woman currently cooking up what appeared to be some sort of quinoa dish in front of her. 

Clarke’s nose crinkled at the sight. 

“I have rice for you, don’t worry,” Lexa assured when she saw Clarke’s look, “you act as though quinoa killed your whole family.”

“It could have,” Clarke huffed, “next you’ll be trying to feed me  _ kale  _ or  _ kombucha _ .”

Lexa rolled her eyes fondly before turning back to her task at hand. 

“My favorite response was Aden’s.” Clarke smiled at the memory of it. After a few tweets that were mostly incoherent babbles of ‘ _ stop objectifying my big sister in front of me for the whole internet to see you sickos’  _ he’d made it his mission to post the most unflattering pictures of Lexa he had on file, and Clarke had aided him in his quest to help Lexa seem more mortal and less like a greek goddess sculpted from marble. 

“Especially when he proposed people start thirsting after you as an alternative,” Lexa quipped, eyes raking over Clarke’s form appreciatively, “not that I’m willing to share, but I do think that your beauty needs to be appreciated more.”

There’s a small part of Clarke, the little voice in the back of her head that’s beginning to sound annoyingly like the people haunting her twitter mentions, that urges her to argue with Lexa, to disregard her words, brush them off. But the sincerity in her tone, the way Lexa’s eyes shine when she says it, made Clarke pause and smile instead. 

“Flatterer.”

“It isn’t flattery if it’s true!” Lexa defended quickly. “But if flattery will get you to eat quinoa, then I may indulge in it more often.” Clarke groaned and Lexa laughed,  breathy and beautiful and relaxed. 

“I don’t know why you hate it so much, it’s good for you! And healthy, it’ll ensure you live a long, healthy life.”

“Yes, but at what cost,” Clarke muttered darkly, “I’m a normal human, I like carbs. And take-out. And  _ grease.  _ They’re the american staples of cuisine.” Lexa’s nose crinkled in the adorable way it always did when she thought about eating heavily when she was dieting―which was most of the time, Clarke found Lexa most attractive on her cheat days―and she shook her head. 

“Well,  _ excuse me  _ if I want my future wife to live a long, healthy life,” she sighed dramatically, throwing her hands into the air in mock-surrender, and Clarke felt her heart do flips as it always did at the mention of a future with Lexa. 

“Well, when you put it that way…” she trailed off, and Lexa’s eyes danced with the prospect of victory, “...nope, still not eating quinoa, but it was a nice try on your part, babe.”  

Once they were settled in and dinner was on the table, the two descended into easy conversation about their days, an easy familiarity of the situation that Clarke relished in. Even amidst their busy schedules, they’d been making time to have dinner together at least three times a week, proper dinner and not just leftovers, because Lexa wanted them to be as healthy as college students could be. 

“Oh, Clarke, I saw the cutest thing on twitter earlier today,” Lexa’s lips stretched into an impossibly wide smile as she fished her phone out of her pocket, suddenly recalling whatever it was she was about to recount. Clarke fought a grimace at the very mention of the social media site, as it hadn’t been very welcoming to her as of late, but Lexa’s smile was nothing if not contagious, and she found herself scooting further on the edge of her seat in anticipation for what Lexa was about to show her. 

It was a young girl, probably around age six or seven, in a little league football uniform, paint done in a manner unmistakably meant to replicate… 

“She’s like a mini me!” Lexa gushed, swiping through a few more pictures where the girl posed and made different faces for whoever was behind the camera, “and her mother attached such a nice post about how she’d always wanted to play football but was scared to do it because she didn’t think that it was okay for girls to play? And that she saw me on tv and she just got so excited and had her mom sign her up immediately. And, it’s crazy to think that, that  _ I helped  _ that little girl do that.”

She looked so genuinely touched, so  _ moved  _ by this one little girl, and Clarke felt her heart swell with the enormity of it all, couldn’t help but think that one day, she and Lexa might have a little girl of their own painting war paint on her face and giggling while Lexa tossed her a football. 

“You, Lexa Woods” Clarke said, standing and cupping Lexa’s face in her hands gently, “are an inspiration.” She kissed her gently, and Lexa smiled, pulling Clarke into her lap to keep her there a moment longer, soak in the moment of the two of them, together. 

“...inspiring enough for you to eat quinoa?”

“Kiss me again and you might get lucky.”

* * *

“I still think you should talk to Woods about it.”

Talks with Murphy were becoming all more frequent, and he’d joked just the other day that Clarke should start paying him for sessions. 

The two of them were sprawled out in Murphy’s dorm on a makeshift pile of pillows and duvets on the floor, study materials for art history spread out in front of them. Murphy nursed a beer almost protectively to his chest and Clarke sighed, rubbing at her temples. 

This particular meeting had been spurred not only out of a need for the two of them to get their asses into gear for a research project for their class, but also a recent resurgence in the attacks on Clarke’s character, both physical and in general. While the Buzzfeed article had been amusing to read, and Aden’s reaction had been priceless, it had only served to breathe further life into those who found it their sole purpose in life to bring Clarke down with the intent to try and obtain Lexa as some sort of prize for themselves. 

One girl in particular had been vicious to the point of ridiculousness, only taking a moment to pause in her constant attacks on every single physical flaw she could find on the pictures of Clarke the internet had when Murphy messaged her telling her not so kindly to fuck off, and, when she didn’t respond positively to him, a quick chat with Monty had been enough for him―without Clarke’s knowledge―to obtain her home address and that had silenced her far quicker than words ever could.    

“It’s just a few kids being annoying on the internet, Murph, it really isn’t something to worry about.” He shot her a  _ look  _ over the top of his beer and Clarke scowled. “The rest of Lexa’s fans are just so supportive, and they really look up to her, and you should  _ see  _ the way she responds to them. God, she’s their role model, and I don’t think she’s ever dealt with that before, outside of Aden’s hero-worship, and Lexa didn’t really, y’know,  _ have  _ a stable role model growing up, and being able to  _ be  _ one just makes her glow.”

Murphy sighed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“I don’t think pointing out a few of the dickheads would turn Woods off to the whole experience.”

He’s right. Clarke knew that. 

“I just…” Clarke paused. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, and besides, the point of me talking to you about it is to try and not let their words have any effect on me, and making a big deal about it would show them that their words mean something. And that’s what all bullies want, isn’t it, a reaction?”

Murphy’s eyelid twitched and he muttered something under his breath, but Clarke knew there was substance to her argument that he couldn’t refute from the downward tilt to his mouth―though, being Murphy, that was somewhat of a permanent fixture whenever Emori wasn’t around―and he begrudgingly nodded. 

“For the record,” he added, “I still think you’re being an idiot.” 

“They’re harmless, really,” Clarke brushed off. She was the only reason their comments hurt her, because she was letting her own insecurities get the better of her when she knew she shouldn’t. Murphy fixed her with another  _ look _ , so she conceded, “if it gets bad, to the point where someone is threatening to come to my apartment and stab me with my own kitchen knife, I’ll tell Lex, okay? But I don’t think it’ll ever get to that point so, for the moment, you need to relax.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he scoffed, “seriously, though, if there’s even a peep of some crazy psycho Woods fan trying to actually stalk you, I’ll tell Woods myself.”

“You and me both, Murphy,” Clarke assured, “you and me both.” She rose, dusting her knees. “Anyway, another shift at the studio, for now. Yay me.” 

“I’ll pray for you.” Murphy offered, walking her to the door. “You gonna be okay without Woods?” 

“Yeah, her game is today. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Clarke informed him. “I just have to survive this shift.” 

* * *

Luckily for Clarke, the studio was empty, which meant there wasn’t a whole lot for her to do. She was reclining in the back office, about to pull out her phone to see if Lexa had texted her, when Ilian popped his head in. 

“Hey Clarke!” He called from his position in the doorway. 

“Hey.” She smiled, setting her phone down momentarily. “Busy day, huh?” 

Ilian smirked. “Dante says art sells itself. I don’t really know about that.” 

“Good art does.” Clarke defended. “It’s like drugs.” 

“Oh, so not only is she an artist, but she’s  _ enlightened. _ ” Ilian teased. 

“Every now and then. At parties.” Clarke admitted sheepishly. “And weed only. I’m a purist.” 

“Aren’t we all?” Ilian laughed. “Well, hey. There’s actually a poetry reading tomorrow night, and I think you’d actually like to go. There will also be  _ enlightenment.”  _

Clarke blushed. “Oh! Well, actually, Lexa’s going to be home tomorrow and she’ll be exhausted. Maybe another time.” 

Clarke hadn’t realized Ilian had been asking it  _ that  _ way. 

After all, half of twitter was hating on her, there was no way in hell she would even imagine  _ anyone  _ would ask her out. 

So, it slipped her mind as Ilian grumbled something about stacking boxes and the ducked out, likely to greet a patron. 

Clarke smiled widely when Lexa’s name appeared on her phone. She opened up her messages, reading them with a little excitement. She had quite a motivational plan for Lexa. 

 

**Hello, my love. Hope your work is light.**

**I’m just changing in the locker room.**

**It isn’t the same without you.**

**I miss you.**

 

Clarke smiled at the message, moving her thumbs to tap out a reply. 

_ Hey baby.  _

_ Work is alright. Same old same old.  _

_ I miss you more.  _

_ How is my commander feeling?  _

**Good. Residually horny.**

**Annoyed, that she has to be here.**

_ That makes two of us.  _

_ Hey.  _

_ Lexa.  _

 

**_Love?_ **

_ Are you nervous?  _

**...Yes.**

**My good luck charm isn’t here.**

 

At that, Clarke’s heart nearly exploded. God, Lexa was so good at being romantic. Clarke was such a goner. 

 

_ How about a pick-me-up?  _

_ ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES _

 

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ Clarke had a modeling session in a whole new set of lingerie that morning, and saved them for when she knew Lexa would text her. And... _ yes,  _ she was a bit nervous sending nudes. But it was  _ Lexa.  _

Clarke was wearing a set of blue panties and a bra with a matching garter that all matched the color of her eyes. She’d ran a hand through her hair, messing it to a sexy point, biting her lip. The first photo was simply her on her knees, biting her lip with a sexy pout. 

The second had  _ ample  _ cleavage, Lexa’s hickeys littering her breasts and neck. 

The third was a full body shot, Clarke’s fingers wandering dangerously low near her panties, her scar no longer a point of concern between her and Lexa, out in full display. 

Clarke didn’t realize how much Lexa’s opinion meant to her until her heart started thumping, and she saw the little grey ellipses go up in a speech bubble that meant Lexa was typing. 

**Fuck.**

**Clarke.**

**Clarke Abigail Griffin, I’m shaking now.**

**You are the most beautiful woman alive.**

**Fuck. My god. What are you doing to me?**

**I have a game, you know.**

**Look at those beautiful lips.**

 

To which Clarke sent, “Which ones? ;)” 

Lexa nearly dropped her phone, her thighs clenching, her abs tensing. She hit the call button before she knew what she was doing. 

“Hello?” Clarke whispered into her phone in surprise. “Lex? You okay?”

“....No.” Lexa breathed. “Fuck, Clarke, you’re gorgeous.” 

“You liked my gift?” Clarke giggled, hoping that Illian was still off with patrons, trying to keep her voice low. 

“I loved it. I love you. Is there...Are there…” 

“There are many more.” Clarke confirmed. “Just wait till you see how wet-” 

“Clarke!” Ilian pushed his head into the slot. “Can you show this lady Dante’s latest collection? It got busy out on the floor just now.” 

Clarke nodded, watching him leave. “I...have to go.” She admitted softly. “I love you, more than anything. Good luck out there.” 

“Thank you, Clarke. I love you more.” 

* * *

“I swear,” Murphy grumbled, hands buried deep within the confines of his hoodie pockets as he and Clarke walked out of their class together, “I don’t know how you can stand to be in that self-absorbed idiot’s presence outside of classroom hours.”

“He…” Clarke trailed off, searching for some sort of redeeming quality to assign to Ilian’s person. Upon finding none, she instead continued, “a job’s a job. And besides, you’re just upset because he critiqued your painting.”

Murphy scowled. 

“Yeah, well, he didn’t need to be so rude about it, and he had nothing but praise for you, but that’s unsurprising, considering he’s got the biggest boner for you I’ve seen since Woods.” Clarke halted in their walk, Murphy stumbling into her, and turned on him. 

“He what?”

Murphy stared at her for a long moment and Clarke groaned. 

“Well I mean,  _ yeah _ , I  _ noticed _ , but I didn’t think it was that big of a thing. Like just a passing attraction that would like, get me better grades, or a promotion, or  _ something _ .” Murphy snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“Using your dashingly good looks for your own personal gains, Griffin? Sounds suspiciously Slytherin on you.”

“Hey! Clarke!”

The two of them turn, in tandem―Clarke thinks it’s funny, how Murphy responded to her name so casually as though it was his own, because he’d become so acclimated to her life that it’s become second nature to him―and Murphy’s nose curls distastefully when his brain registers. 

“Speak of the devil,” he mutters under his breath, and his expression doesn’t lighten when Ilian catches up to them within a few moments, seeing as they hadn’t strayed far enough from the classroom to actually get anywhere. 

“Ilian,” Clarke greeted, somewhat stinted and forced, because while she’d known, logically, somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind that Ilian was attracted to her―which had been difficult to comprehend, especially considering the resurgence of all her insecurities―she hadn’t realized the extent to which that attraction had developed, and now she just felt… awkward, for lack of a better work. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he greeted, offering her what he doubtlessly thought to be a charming, “sorry, I wanted to talk to you outside of class but I got caught up…” he trailed off, side-eyeing Murphy… “could you give us a second?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Murphy drawled, looking down at his nails and then back at Ilian, lip curled, “you can continue.”

Ilian faltered, clearly unused to not getting what he wanted. 

“Right, well, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me,” he offered, smiling again. Behind him, Murphy rolled his eyes and made an over-emphasized gagging motion and Clarke fought the urge to laugh, smiling politely. 

“Sorry,” she said, “I’m actually grabbing lunch with Murphy and then I have another class, but I’ll see you later at the Mountain?” Ilian’s eyes darkened as Murphy snorted, but his expression mellowed when he made eye contact with Clarke and nodded. 

“Right, of course, see you then.” 

He walks away quickly, perhaps in an attempt to salvage some of his wounded pride, and Clarke and Murphy stare as he leaves, unimpressed. 

“Did he just…?” Clarke trailed off. 

“Yeah.” Murphy confirmed, as the two of them began to walk in the pursuit of greasy food. “He just tried to ask you out.” 

Murphy was suspiciously quiet as the two of them continued on their way towards lunch, and as he picked at his fries, not even bothering to try and steal food from Clarke’s plate, she finally asked. 

“Hey, are you alright?”

“I just,” Murphy frowned, demeanor shifted in a way Clarke couldn’t remember since― _ oh _ , “I just, I get a really bad vibe from this guy, Clarke. Like, beyond your typical dudebro. He doesn’t seem like the type to handle rejection well.”

His mind had doubtlessly wandered to another time, another scenario, another person, in which rejection had been completely ignored, and Clarke could see the color slowly draining from Murphy’s already pale skin, and she reached out and gently took his hand. 

“Hey, you’re here, Murphy, in Polis, remember.” He blinked, once, twice, and nodded, firmly, as though to ground himself. “I can handle Ilian, and at the first sign that he won’t take no for an answer, I’ll kick him in the balls and call the police, okay?” Murphy chuckled dryly and nodded, and Clarke pushed his fries towards him. “Eat. Isn’t Emori coming over later today?”

“Yeah, in half an hour actually, she doesn’t have classes for the rest of the day…”

Apparently, in Ilian’s mind, the rejection at lunch hadn’t been a rejection, because when Clarke showed up at the Mountain for her internship, as she always did, ready to work and in a mindset of professionalism―fully prepared to put the incident of the day behind her because god she really didn’t want to think about it and she really needed this job―he was chipper as ever. 

“Hey Clarke!” he greeted. “I have to head out to pick up some new shipments but I’ll be back, I trust you’ll have things covered until then.” 

It seemed, in that moment, that he was ignoring their previous interaction as much as Clarke wished they would, and she allowed herself a brief sigh of relief. Of course, with her luck, it wouldn’t last. 

She was granted an hour or so of peace, talking amiably with the few people who filtered through the gallery, asking questions about the art that she was more than suitably prepared to answer with complete and utter enthusiasm, before Ilian returned, new shipments in tow. They’d been due for some new pieces for a spring showing, and from the size of the packages, Dante had delivered, as he always did. 

After the last viewer Clarke had been talking to, an inquisitive young woman named Margo, left, Ilian materialized as though out of thin air at Clarke’s side. 

“So,” he opened, clapping his hands together, “I figured, since you were busy with your friend earlier, maybe we could close up shop early, go grab some dinner, just the two of us?” Clarke stared at him for a long moment, and his smile didn’t once falter. “What do you say?”

“You do realize,” she started, slowly, as though speaking to a small child, “that I’m still very happily dating Lexa, my girlfriend, right?”

He frowned, as though the thought hadn’t quite occurred to him. 

“Still?”

“What do you mean  _ still _ ?” Clarke bristled, folding her arms across her chest. Ilian rolled his eyes as though  _ Clarke  _ was somehow the one being ridiculous in this situation, stance widening, and Clarke suddenly understood what Raven meant every time she complained about the dudebros at her work  _ mansplaining  _ things to her. 

“I mean, I’ve brought this up with you before, but I don’t think you two are good for each other, and you could be doing better than her, honestly―”

“I’m going to cut you off right there,” Clarke interrupted, eyes narrowed and jaw set, “because you don’t have the right to talk about my relationship with Lexa like you know me, Ilian, you’re my  _ boss _ , and my TA, not my friend, and  _ definitely _ not my boyfriend, no matter how far you’ve deluded yourself. We’re both busy people, and regardless of how you seem to think that you’re god’s gift to the world, I’m not going to date you, because I’m perfectly happy with my  _ girlfriend _ , Lexa Woods, the love of my life, so,  _ no _ , I will  _ not  _ go and get dinner  _ just the two of us _ , and  _ yes _ , Lexa and I are  _ still  _ dating.”

Ilian’s own eyes narrowed and he took a step back, assessing Clarke coolly. 

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, and Clarke was  _ seething _ . “Whatever. You’re making a mistake.”

“I really don’t think I am,” Clarke bit underneath her breath. 

“I’m leaving,” he announced, “you can close by yourself.” He seemed to forget that Clarke wasn’t supposed to close, but in that moment, neither of them were particularly bothered by the details, and just wanted to be out of the presence of one another, and Clarke had never felt more relieved in her life than when Ilian stalked dejectedly out of the gallery, hands balled into tight fists at his side. 

As soon as he was gone, Clarke flipped the sign on the front of the door to closed and slunk into the office, throwing herself down on the couch that was situated there, and promptly screamed into a pillow. 

It infuriated her to no end that people thought that they had the right to barge into her life, assume that they knew her better than she knew herself, and make assumptions about a relationship that they couldn’t even  _ begin  _ to comprehend. Of course, Ilian was, to quote Murphy, a self-serving, pompous asshole, but there were plenty of other people who did it too. Because, of course, she and Lexa had their issues, and things they had to work through, but that came with the territory of relationships in general. Nobody was  _ perfect _ , and it was unfair of people to hold her an Lexa to this impossible standard, to set them up for failure when they were just trying to be  _ them _ , just the two girls who had fallen so helplessly in love with one another, and were falling further still. 

In her Ilian-induced rage, she pulled out a canvas and painted, smears of reds and oranges bleeding across the canvas into images she couldn’t quite explain or comprehend, but resonated somewhere within the confines of her heart. And as the paint dried, Clarke took a deep breath, and let the anger leave. 

She closed up soon after, as painting had made the most of her time, and made quick work of her walk home. Lexa was waiting for her, putting dinner on plates at the little table for the two of them, and Clarke felt her heart swell. Because how could anyone think that Lexa was anything short of the best thing for her, when she was  _ here _ . 

“I was just about to text you,” Lexa said instead of a greeting as Clarke put down her bags, “you were later than usual.”

“It was a long day,” Clarke sighed, rubbing at her eyes, and Lexa frowned at the action. Before Clarke could comprehend her movement, Lexa had made her way over to where she was standing and gathered her into her arms, grip strong and warm and familiar around Clarke, and she sunk into it. 

“I love you,” Clarke mumbled into Lexa’s shoulder, and Lexa squeezed tighter, before gently maneuvering her towards the table and towards dinner. 

“I made you pasta.”

“I  _ really  _ love you.”

They ate in companionable silence for a while as Clarke tried to figure out how to broach the subject with Lexa, as she knew she wasn’t going to take it well. 

“Did Ilian keep you later than usual?” Well, Lexa had opened up the subject for her, at least. 

Clarke nodded, and Lexa narrowed her eyes, stabbing at a piece of her food with more fervor than necessary. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna like him even less,” Clarke muttered, but Lexa―damn her and her impeccable hearing―picked up on it, and tilted her head in a manner so reminiscent of a confused puppy that Clarke wanted to scream, “he asked me out today. Twice, actually maybe three times I’m not so sure about the first one. Well, tried to, I said no, obviously.”

Lexa was silent for a long moment, processing. 

“He what?”

“He asked me out,” Clarke repeated, “three times?” Lexa’s jaw clenched, muscles tightened, vein in her neck protruding in a manner Clarke had only seen on several occasions, one of which had been after the Dax Incident. 

“He knows we’re dating?” her voice was clipped, professional, and she’d entered commander mode, such a stark contrast from the easy, relaxed mood she’d been in not minutes earlier. Clarke nodded once in confirmation and Lexa stood. 

“Baby, where are you going?”

“I’m gonna punch him,” Lexa stated matter-of-factly, tone leaving no room for argument, but Clarke put a gentle arm on her bicep and she wilted, sinking back into her chair. 

“You know you can’t,” Clarke told her softly, “even though your parents could pay your tuition out of pocket, you worked so hard for your scholarship, and getting into a dumb fight would make you lose that. I already yelled at him, okay? You don’t need to go and defend  my honor.”

Lexa nodded, and Clarke pulled her away from the table. 

“Let’s get changed into our pajamas and cuddle, okay? Cuddles make everything better.” Once she’d deflated, no longer puffed up like an overprotective peacock, there was a vulnerability in Lexa’s eyes that Clarke couldn’t quite place as they changed. 

“Clarke?”

She sounded so small, so unsure of herself, so unlike the commander persona she put on for the masses to adore. 

“Yes, Lexa?”

“You’re happy, right?”

The question caught Clarke so off-guard that she stumbled on her way to the bed, befuddlement written all over her face. And then, it clicked. 

Clarke was used to this. 

Accustomed to people, outside forces, trying to tear her and Lexa apart, dissolve their relationship to shambles, because they wanted to be with one of them. Lexa, though, had never dealt with anything like it. For Lexa, this was the first attempt against her and Clarke’s relationship that she was consciously aware of, and she was no doubt being overcome with the same insecurities Clarke herself had felt when dealing with them. 

“Alexandria Anastasia Woods,” Clarke stated, voice heavy with emotion, “you have made me happier than any person has ever managed to make me in my entire life, do you understand? When I’m with you, it’s like I’m  _ home _ , like I’m complete, like I’ve finally found my other half. You are, without a doubt, the best thing that has  _ ever  _ happened to me, and I thank whatever higher forces that exist every waking moment that I was lucky enough to get you.”

Clarke pulled Lexa into her arms, then, as Lexa had her, earlier, and Lexa nuzzled into her chest, just breathing her in. 

“I worry,” Lexa admitted, softly, so softly that Clarke almost didn’t hear, “that I won’t be enough.”

Clarke hated Alexander and Anastasia in moments like these, when the weight of Lexa’s childhood insecurities rise over her like a tidal wave and she struggles to keep her head above water. Because no matter how hard they try to make up for it, they’d left their child, left her to grow up in a shadow, and she’d grown up with the shackles of never being  _ good enough _ . 

“You are  _ more  _ than enough, Lexa,” Clarke promised her, and she reaffirmed her words with soft kisses as she traced nonsensical patterns on Lexa’s skin, a gesture she’d learned calmed the other girl early on in their relationship, “okay? You may not be perfect, but that’s because nobody is, but damnit if you aren’t the closest thing to it.”

“I just feel horrible,” Lexa admitted, “because we barely have time as it is, and I just want to give you a normal, happy life.” Clarke laughed, and Lexa looked up at her with teary, confused eyes, and Clarke kissed her gently, trying to convey all her love through the soft press of her lips against Lexa’s. 

“Lexa, baby, if I had wanted a normal relationship, I wouldn’t have dated you,” Clarke told her seriously, “I knew what I was signing up for the day you strolled into Arkadia with that arrogant smirk on your face. You were never destined for normal. You were meant for so,  _ so  _ much more, and I can’t wait to see you get there, and I can’t wait to be there with you, do you understand?”

“I love you,” Lexa whispered reverently, cupping Clarke’s face in her hands. 

“I love you too,” Clarke whispered back conspiratorially, “that’s why we’re dating,  _ branwada _ .” 

Lexa cracked a watery grin and wiped at her eyes, sniffing. 

“We just had an emotional heart-to-heart and you called me an idiot,” she giggled, sticking her tongue out. Clarke just smiled and cuddled into Lexa’s side, relishing in her warmth. 

“I still want to punch him, though,” Lexa added after a beat, “just a little bit.”

“I think there’s a line, Murphy’s been itching to do it for weeks now, apparently being in a class with him as a TA is completely insufferable.”

“Well tell Murphy he can suck it, as your girlfriend, I get first dibs on sucker punching any and all douchebags.”

“You can rock-paper-scissors for it in the morning, I’m tired and I wanna cuddle, so please be a good pillow and be quiet.” Lexa hummed in lieu of an answer and the two settled further into the bed, relishing in the company of one another. 

“Clarke?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

“Lexa!” Sinclair’s voice rang out from outside his office door, and Lexa bit back a grumble as she moved to answer his call, stressed beyond belief. 

She couldn’t really believe the workload they were putting on her, under the guise of it being a “secretarial position.” It was downright abusive to make her do so much of the heavy lifting, without compensating her for it like they compensated any of their other full time employees. 

Lexa  _ knew  _ they weren’t giving as much work as the other interns. Even that annoying one who kept trying to hit on her at the water cooler. 

_ “Hey.” A guy her age had approached her one day, looking like a trust-fund baby in his expensive looking suit, his tie messed up. “You new here?”  _

_ Lexa muttered a “Not really, been here all my life.” as she got her cup of water.  _

_ Which he then countered with, “Well, were’ve you been all my life, gorgeous?”  _

_ To which she replied, “I’m a lesbian and I have a girlfriend, Bradley.”  _

_ “It’s Brandon.”  _

_ “Whatever.”  _

Good times. 

Lexa was far too caught up in her ridiculously busy schedule to even care about socializing, especially with guys who checked out her ass a little too loudly and too often for her liking. 

Lexa was trying her best to prove to her parents that she could be trusted with whatever task they wanted to put in front of her, but she kept getting swept up in stupid menial tasks a monkey like Bradley could do. 

Why was it so hard for them to understand? She didn’t want to be  _ handed  _ the position, like everyone thought. She could work for it! She was bright, she’d maintained her perfect grades, and she was trying so hard to impress two people who continuously rejected her. 

She couldn’t understand why things had gotten so bleak, at the office. 

She could barely stand to call her own parents, if not for Clarke’s urging her to do so, to tell them how things were going. She never mentioned how stressed she was, or how thin she was spread. She didn’t want to show them any signs of weakness. She could tell Clarke had an issue with it, but bit her tongue nonetheless.

_ Clarke.  _

Lexa thought about her girlfriend dreamily, a pang in her chest. How had she missed Illian’s blatant advances? She wanted to slaughter that demon straight boy whole. She offered, about one billion times, to walk Clarke in and shake him down a bit, but Clarke had declined. 

Maybe it was for the best, but Lexa was wholly determined to find out why he felt that he had a chance. Was their relationship falling apart? Lexa knew things had been stressful, and she could detect issues, but she hadn’t thought it had been a byproduct of their relationship. 

She loved Clarke more than anything or anyone in the world, and while she knew that Clarke knew that, she was keen on reminding her. 

_ Just a few more weeks until the football season is over in its entirety, and I can go back to being with Clarke full time.  _

The idea made her giddy.

She paced rapidly towards Sinclair’s office, readying herself for whatever shitstorm she was about to face. “Yes?” She leaned against the doorway. 

“Who filed these?” Sinclair asked, tossing about ten manila folders onto his desk. 

“...Your interns.” Lexa answered solemnly. 

“That would explain it.” Sinclair sighed, handing her a folder with a form. “Tell me, what’s wrong with this?” 

It took Lexa all of two minutes before she identified the issue. 

“It’s...missing a signature.” 

“Which one?” 

“...Alie’s.” 

“That’s right.” Sinclair nodded. “ _ This time,  _ could you make sure-” 

“Sir.” Lexa blinked. “I didn’t screw these up the first time. I was working two offices down, remember?” 

Sinclair looked pressed for time. “Well, you’re an intern, and the collective group of interns screwed this up.” 

“They have yet to elect me their leader.” Lexa bit down dryly. 

Sinclair made a face. “Woods. You have great character. Lots of potential. But this attitude-” 

Lexa wanted to knock his teeth out, that shitty intern’s teeth out, and quite frankly, her own parents’ teeth out. This was child’s play. 

“Well, I’ll relay the message. Next time, try to hire interns that have more than famous last names on their resume.” Lexa ground out. 

“That was exclude you from the running.” Sinclair pointed out. 

Lexa barely contained a growl. “That’s how everyone sees it. I mean, what’s graduating at the top of my class with stellar ACT and SAT  scores anyway, right?” 

“Lexa, it’s not-” 

Lexa snatched the remaining folders off his desk, muttering, “I’ll find Alie.” 

“She’s on a smoke break.” Sinclair supplied, wearily. 

“Smoke break?” Lexa muttered as she came out of his office. She didn’t seem like the type to smoke, with such an emphasis on her physical fitness. Lexa rounded the corner, heading for the roof, the only place in the building she would be able to smoke without  anyone noticing. 

On her way, Lexa tried to reach for her phone in her back pocket, intent on texting Clarke to cool off and just cheer up after her issues with Sinclair. However, she realized she’d left it in her jacket in her cubicle, and sighed. 

Of course. 

Lexa hurried up the stairs, reaching the door that led to the roof. She turned the knob, noting how heavy it was. She pushed, the door open all the way.

Alie turned, eyeing Lexa with a little surprise.  “Lexa. You’re a long way from the office.” Alie drawled. 

Lexa eyed her carefully. “Just going where Sinclair tells me.” She replied dryly. 

“Ah, yes. I remember those days.” Alie laughed, and it was mostly fake. “It’s...not the best, having to listen to every single command coming from his mouth and the mouths of everyone else. But, I like to think ambition is quickly rewarded here. I mean, you parents must’ve seen it in me, after all.” Alie knew she’d hit a sensitive nerve with that comment, and her red lips pulled back to reveal a soft smirk. 

Lexa nodded, ignoring her jabs to the best of her ability. “Your signature is needed on these.” She held out the files and the pen. 

Alie nodded, moving to sign. As she began, Lexa narrowed her eyes a bit. 

“You smoke?” The question fell from Lexa’s lips before she had a second to realize what she was saying. 

“Sorry?” Alie repeated, glancing up. 

“You’re on a smoke break.” Lexa explained. “Sinclair told me. That’s how I knew where to find you.” 

“Ah.” Alie nodded slowly. “It’s a filthy habit.” 

“So...why do it?” Lexa asked, analyzing the way Alie responded. 

“It’s an indulgence. A tolerable one. Eating makes me gain weight, drinking isn’t sustainable.” 

Lexa nodded. “...So why do it then? Smoking isn’t any better, what with the effect on the lungs-” 

“Because, Alexandria.” Alie sighed. “If we do not allow ourselves a modicum of...peace, whatever it may be: a guilty pleasure, time off, these sort of things…” Alie trailed off. “What good is the work we do, if we can’t stand it ourselves?” 

Lexa looked thrown by that, as if she hadn’t considered it at all. “At what risk?” She pressed. 

Alie smiled a bit. “You  _ must  _ have been a good student, you’re rather thoughtful like your parents. What risk are we talking about? The health risk, or the social risk?” 

Lexa was about to open her mouth, when Alie silenced her with another piercing statement. 

“You may resent me-” 

“I don’t-” 

“Listen, Alexandria. You and I are in very similar positions. We work, and work, and  _ work.  _ Most of that goes unappreciated. We don’t do it for ourselves, we do it for...whatever our own reasons are. Now, we  _ both  _ don’t care about the health risks. You with your inability to construct a feasible schedule, me with my smoking. The social risk is far worse. For you: being a disappointment, publicly so. For me, falling apart at the seams because I don’t take the time to indulge every now and again. Do you understand?” 

Lexa blinked. “How do you know what situation I’m in?” 

Alie smiled wryly. “The office walls have ears.”

Lexa didn't know whether to be affronted, indignant, or plain amazed. 

Okay, so Alie was a  _ lot  _ wiser than she'd previously given her credit for. 

“I'm just saying, Lexa, sometimes you need to assess your life and take the necessary breaks. Your parents didn't get to where they are by forcing themselves.” 

“Missing my childhood must've been a luxury for them?” Lexa couldn't help the bite in her tone.

“They regret that.” Alie informed her, solemn for once. 

“Right. Well, regret does nothing.” Lexa but her lip, tucking the papers under her arm. “Thanks for the signatures.” 

And then she was gone, mind racing as she itched to talk to her best friend on the matter. 

* * *

Clarke was laying on the couch when Lexa arrived, quietly coming in and hanging her jacket, eyeing her girlfriend, lazing around peacefully. 

“Hey!” Clarke moved to sit up, but Lexa smiled and shook her head, instead moving to slide under Clarke, wrapping her arms around her as they laid back down, the TV show still playing on netflix. 

“You okay?” Clarke asked, stroking Lexa’s hair. 

“I’m fine.” Lexa replied genuinely, kissing Clarke’s cheek. “How was your day?” 

“Fine. I haven’t really left the apartment, been studying all day.” Clarke murmured tiredly. “What about you?” 

“It’s been...interesting.” Lexa admitted. 

“There’s grilled chicken salad on the counter.” Clarke informed her dutifully. “And there’s peach tea in the fridge.” 

Lexa smiled at Clarke’s thoughtfulness, bringing her hand up to her lips to kiss it. 

“What were you watching?” Lexa asked softly. 

“Um, I don’t really know. It started off as me binge watching Cosmos but I think I zoned out.” Clarke sighed. “Neil Degrasse Tyson has such a relaxing voice, though.” 

Lexa chuckled, smiling at how adorable Clarke was. “Clarke?” 

“Lexa?” 

“Can we talk?” 

“Are you dumping me?” 

“No.” Lexa snorted. 

“Alright.” Clarke regally nodded. “You may continue.” 

Lexa laughed gently. “Um, well, it’s about Alie.” 

“Was she a bitch again?” 

“Yes, but that’s...besides the point.” Lexa supplied. “So, today, I had a moment to speak with her alone, and she told me...well, I’m not really sure to be honest. It was a confusing conversation. She compared me to a cigarette, I think.” 

Clarke blinked a few times. “Um, what?” 

“Okay, well no. I mean, she told me that if I don’t indulge myself, what’s the point of working so hard?” 

Clarke looked thoughtful. “Robo-bitch has a point.” She offered. 

Lexa blinked. “What? Really?” 

“Well, Lex, that’s common sense. God knows you needed a break. You still do, you work way too hard, baby.” 

Lexa sighed. “I thought you’d say this.” 

“You sound...disappointed.” Clarke noted carefully. 

“Well, yeah. I...I don’t want to sound crazy, Clarke, but...My parents are supposed to be giving promotions next week. Well, Sinclair is, but I know he reports to them. Alie and I kind of want that same managerial role. What if I’m close and this is her way of getting me to loosen up? So I slip up?” Lexa pressed. 

Clarke looked thoughtful. “Well, you don’t have to act on it now, but it  _ is  _ good advice. You need to take a breath and take in your surroundings.”  _ Like the fact that your fans are ripping me to shreds.  _

Lexa nodded. “Is it...obvious?” 

“What?” 

“I mean, how does she know all this about my life, Clarke?” 

“Baby, anyone with eyes can see you’re the busiest person they’ve ever met.” Clarke consoled softly. “I have to remind you to take off your clothes before bed, sometimes.” 

Lexa looked guilty. “Really?” She whispered. 

Clarke nodded. 

“But...this job, Clarke.” Lexa gushed, “Imagine the look on her face, on my parents’ faces….I can’t pass up an opportunity like this!” 

“And what about living, Lexa?” Clarke countered. 

Lexa sighed, sinking into the couch, holding Clarke tightly. “One more week.” She promised. 

“You promise?” Clarke whispered. “Because, I….”  _ I don’t know if I can take this anymore, Lexa. I need to tell you. I’m sorry, if it ruins your plans, but I’m hurting. And I know you can fix it.   _

The words never came. 

But, oh, in one week’s time? 

Shit was going to hit the fan. 

“You what?” Lexa prodded. 

“I love you. And I want you to...wind down, a little.” Clarke told her softly. 

“Whatever you want, love.” Lexa promised, just as soft. 

And she meant it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at us about angst, we're poor and tired. Just trust us.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not what you expected to happen: Good. I will say, retribution is coming. Patience is key.

Clarke never thought she’d have an  _ issue  _ with spending increased time with Lexa. All year, she’d waited for the football season to be over, so that she could have her girlfriend back.

And that’s exactly what she got.

Compared to their prior schedule, these days were absolute bliss.

Lexa would lazily hang in bed with Clarke until eight, whining and clutching Clarke like a teddy bear whenever she’d try to get up. Full of laughter, Lexa would pick her up and take her to the shower, where they’d spend a fair amount of time kissing under the pouring water and generally just feeling each other up before they remembered they had class.

Class was normal, and then they both had work afterwards, so it was time spent apart. But then Lexa would be home at a normal time, with dinner ready for Clarke, and she’d be insistent on romantic candle lit dinners, where they’d peer into each other’s eyes.

And then it was either a movie, or sex, or naked cuddling, or all three.

Clarke was  _ supposed  _ to be enjoying it. That was her dream life. In fact, it wasn’t the fact that she was spending so much time with Lexa that bothered her.

It was the fact that she was hiding something.

A big something.

While Lexa’s season tapered off, her relentless following only grew. And as they were spotted together more and more, the world learned of their relationship, more so than before.

Lexa wasn’t an avid social media user, and as such, was ignorant to the onslaught of harsh words that were hurled in Clarke’s direction every day. Words that chipped away at her self esteem, words that colored her own opinion of herself.

Clarke was beginning to think that maybe there was something  _ wrong  _ with her.

And that was a tragedy, because in Lexa’s eyes, and the eyes of many, many other people, Clarke Griffin was one of the most beautiful people in the world, both inside and out.

Clarke had tried to separate herself from what people said, from reading their tweets, their posts, their messages. She had to sit through random girls slobbering all over Lexa’s pictures, calling her “daddy”, sending her fucking panties in the mail.

It was only going to get worse, because Clarke knew, Lexa’s game was only going to get better.

And then she’d move into the  _ pro  _ league.

With millions upon millions of fans. Worldwide.

And so, it was thoughts like these that would pierce Clarke’s happy facade, and it was her stupidly observant, beautiful, caring girlfriend who noticed.

Now that the distractions were over, she  _ noticed. _

And she wasn’t the least bit happy.

This all surfaced on what was supposed to be a relatively calm night, the two making out on the couch, the TV long forgotten. Clarke was wrapped around Lexa, as Lexa hovered over her, the two girls tangled.

Clarke couldn’t remember who initiated it, but as usual, they were insatiable. They kissed tenderly, at first, just enjoying the feeling of their lips pressing together.

Lexa slid her hands up Clarke’s shirt, and after that, it was something more. They were in the middle of turning up the heat when Clarke’s phone  _ dinged,  _ but it wasn’t a text notification. It was a twitter notification, she could tell by the sound.

Clarke frowned, forgetting where she was for a moment, and then tried to play it cool, returning to Lexa’s lips.

“What’s that?” Lexa asked, leaning back slightly, giving Clarke room to talk.

“Nothing.” Clarke answered, a bit too stiffly.

Fuck.

It was as if part of her  _ wanted  _ Lexa to know. As if that part of her was tired of the lies, of hiding, of protecting Lexa. It was selfish, she knew, but she couldn’t help it.

“Clarke.” Lexa cautioned, sounding a bit hurt. “I know you too well for this.”

Clarke sat up, licking her lips. “We should go to bed.” She whispered, savoring the taste of Lexa’s lip balm on her own lips.

“Why are you lying to me?” Lexa murmured.

Clarke sighed, running a hand through her hair. “We need to talk.”

Lexa looked like a kicked puppy, panic coursing through her body, reflected mostly in her eyes.

Clarke wasn’t enjoying their alone time these past few days.

Clarke wasn’t into their makeout sessions anymore.

Lexa was too late.

Clarke was finally done with her, season or no season.

Clarke was seeing someone else.

Luna, Ilian, anyone.

Of course, these were the thoughts that ran through poor Lexa’s mind, unaware of just what Clarke wanted to say.

“Lexa, baby, you can’t get mad, alright?” Clarke murmured, stroking her thigh.

Lexa bit her lip nervously. Why would she be mad?

“Promise me.”

“I can’t promise, Clarke.” Lexa croaked. Of course she’d be mad. A breakup? This late in the game? She’d be ruined.

Clarke frowned. “Lex...I…”

“Clarke.” Lexa whispered shamefully. “You’re all I have...and I...I…” She seemed like she was going to run out breath, the way her lip trembled.

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Lex? Baby, what on  _ earth  _ is wrong? I’m not going anywhere…” She was so surprised at Lexa’s sudden breakdown, she couldn’t put it into words.

That seemed to sober Lexa up, a little. “You said we  _ need to talk _ .”

“Oh my god.” Clarke mumbled, cupping her cheeks. “Lexa, it means we need to talk. It doesn’t mean we need to break up.”

“But it sounded like-”

“I’m wearing your promise ring, you idiot.” Clarke sniffled, kissing away the beginnings of Lexa’s tears. “What don’t you get, Lex? I’m with you forever. For all of it.”

Lexa looked  _ unbelievably _  relieved, smiling, leaning into Clarke’s hand. “Sorry.” She mumbled. “I didn’t mean to make it about me.”

“That’s alright.” Clarke murmured. “We’re long overdue for some heart to heart talks. I think this is the built up tension of the school year finally coming out.”

“Let it out.” Lexa nodded supportively. “What’s up?”

“You have to promise not to be mad.” Clarke reminded softly.

In response, Lexa slid an arm around Clarke, kissing her temple. “I won’t be.”

“You will, I know you. You need to control your temper.” Clarke whispered, drawing patterns on Lexa’s thigh.

“Clarke, I’ve never gotten mad at you-”

“Not at me, baby.” Clarke murmured.

“Ilian?” Lexa’s eyes widened, adrenaline coursing through her. “Did someone hurt you? Did someone touch you?”

“See, this is what I’m talking about. Let me talk.” Clarke reminded, and Lexa clenched her jaw, teeth gritted, nodding.

“Sorry.” Lexa muttered.

Clarke smiled, despite the situation, at her partner, her best friend, who wanted to shred anyone to bits for even thinking of touching her.

Lexa was a true soulmate, through and through.

“Here.” Clarke reached for her phone, unlocking it. “...Scroll through my mentions on twitter.”

“Clarke, I don’t understand.” Lexa murmured as she went to do as she was told. “What are you…” She trailed off, eyes digging into the first line she saw.

Her thumb flicked the page, her eyes poured over every word, every sentence, every paragraph of nastiness.

_ Bitch. _

_ Whore. _

_ Fat. _

_ Ugly. _

_ Slut. _

_ Undeserving. _

_ Gold digger. _

_ Attention whore. _

_ Lexa’s bitch. _

_ Lexa’s side hoe. _

Clarke couldn’t remember how many moments passed. She couldn’t remember when it started, but Lexa was shaking, lip curled in disgust, eyes widened with rage.

Lexa read, and read, and read, until she could read no more. Her stomach felt sick and twisted, like there was barbed wire in her gut. She was clenching the phone with unparalleled force, suddenly rising from her seat.

“Lexa?” Clarke looked concerned. “Lexa, it’s-”

Lexa threw the phone on the ground, hard enough to a point where Clarke couldn’t tell if it was broken or not. She gaped after it, eyes shooting to Lexa, who was now wiping fresh tears from her eyes.

“Lexa-”

“How long.”

“I didn’t mean for...what?”

Lexa’s jaw was taut, her eyes unmoving. “How long has this been going on, Clarke?”

Clarke bit her lip. “All semester.” She whispered. “And then some.”

Lexa’s eyes widened, she looked as if she’d been struck across the face. “Weeks?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Months?”

Clarke’s heart sank. So much for Lexa not being angry.

“Where was I, Clarke?” Lexa mumbled, head throbbing.

“You were busy, I-”

“WHERE WAS I?!” Lexa snapped, and the rage was boiling over.

Clarke flinched, and Lexa froze. She was  _ scaring  _ Clarke. Oh, god, no. Clarke wasn’t to blame. How could she possibly think this was her own fault?

“Clarke.” Lexa croaked, coming to softly cup her cheeks. “I...I didn’t…”

“I’m sorry.” Clarke glanced down. “I thought...You had enough on your plate, already.”

Lexa nearly choked. “You didn’t tell me...because you didn’t want to  _ inconvenience  _ me?” She was crying, and Clarke was crying, and it was beautifully messy. “Clarke, what even….why do we have a relationship if you can’t tell me these things? I….I’m supposed to protect you! That’s what I do! I’m supposed to offer comfort! I’m supposed to be your best friend! The person you turn to for everything and anything.”

“Lexa, this was a complicated few months-” Clarke sputtered. “I didn’t want to be weak-”

“Is this how it is?” Lexa whispered, mostly to herself. “This is my fault. You never would have to endure this if not for me-”

“ _ This  _ is why I never told you!” Clarke snapped out of her sadness, turning towards rage. “You want to go and dismantle everything we’ve worked for! And I  _ can’t,  _ Lexa. I  _ can’t  _ live without you.”

Lexa brushed away Clarke’s tears, taking shuddering breaths. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, as if confessing that she’d taken a life. “I’m so,  _ so  _ sorry. I was a terrible fucking girlfriend, a shit partner, and undeserving of you.” Lexa could barely form words, she was so caught up in her rage. “Clarke, I would never,  _ ever  _ let anything get between us. I’d pick you over all of that...football, my parents, my so called  _ fucking  _ fans. You are my whole world, do you understand that?”

Clarke nodded slowly, and Lexa kissed away the remaining tear stains on her cheeks.

“Oh my god.” Lexa whispered, pulling Clarke into a fiercely tight hug. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated.

“Lexa, it’s not your-”

“Yes it is.” Lexa murmured. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry that, even for a second, you thought it would be a burden to tell me. It shouldn’t be. I’m here for you, and you only.”

Clarke sniffled, feeling truly warm and safe for the first time in months.

It was all off her chest. Lexa knew, and Lexa was there to protect her, to comfort her, to build her back up.

Finally,  _ finally,  _ things were starting to feel right.

Clarke pushed back softly, glancing into Lexa’s eyes, her girlfriend crying almost as hard as she had been.

“You are so brave.” Lexa murmured, tilting her chin. “I will never, ever deserve you.”

“Lexa, don’t say that.” Clarke pressed softly. “I’m just glad you know. It...it makes me feel lighter.”

Lexa nodded, bending over to pick up Clarke’s phone, wincing at the shattered screen.

“It’s...a good thing I have a job, I hear screen replacements are pricey…” Clarke croaked wryly, attempting to tease Lexa.

“Fuck.” Lexa looked absolutely sheepish. “Fuck, Clarke, I’ll have a new one delivered tonight. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Have a bit of a temper.” Clarke smiled softly, pecking Lexa’s lips.

“Clarke…” Lexa looked solemn. “When I yelled...and you flinched….I wanted to die. You know I would never, ever hurt you, right?”

Clarke nodded vigorously. “Of course. You just...startled me.”

“I’m sorry.” Lexa set the phone down on the table, running her hands through her hair, looking frazzled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispered, shaking her head at all that had just transpired.

“Hey.” Clarke rested a hand atop hers, pulling her back down to Earth.

“I’m going to fix this.” Lexa growled. “I’m deleting twitter, I’m having everyone who  _ ever  _ uttered something against you sued, and-”

“Lex.” Clarke shook her head. “No, baby, stop. Relax.”

“No? Clarke, they-”

“You’re not going to do anything, except maybe tell them how you feel. I don’t want this ruining relationships for you, baby. Your fans are important-”

“You are everything.” Lexa whispered reverently.

Clarke blushed furiously. “You’re  _ my _  everything, too. Which is why I’m protecting you from yourself. I don’t want you to do anything about this...except maybe hold me. I love it when you do that.”

Lexa sighed, wrapping her strong arms around Clarke, kissing her head.

“We’re going to be fine.” Clarke promised.

“I’m here, now.” Lexa offered softly, stroking her hair.

* * *

__

Lexa sighed, rubbing at her temples.

The musk of sweat hung in the air after a long workout, an attempt to work through her always shifting emotions; the stress of the impending results of the promotion, school, football, and, most recently, the discovery that her fans had been harassing Clarke, the most important person in her life.

Lexa scowled as she stripped off soiled clothes and turned on the shower, scrubbing at sticky skin. She felt horrible for having missed it, for having been oblivious for something that had caused Clarke obvious pain and suffering for such an extended period of time.

And for what?

Lexa had promised Clarke, time and time again, to protect her, to keep her safe from harm, to make sure she always felt loved and appreciated and valued. And to see the comments the likes of those that had surfaced on social media… it made Lexa’s skin crawl with disgust.

Clarke was everything good and wholesome and wonderful about the world, and the fact that others refused to see her beauty made Lexa physically sick, and she felt so, so  _ stupid  _ for not noticing that something had been wrong.

Granted, Clarke hid her feelings well.

But the fact that Clarke even thought it was necessary, to hide her feelings and spare Lexa grief, put her needs below Lexa’s own, hurt more than the comments towards her girlfriend themselves. Because, to Lexa, Clarke was  _ everything _ , and Lexa was beginning to realize that perhaps she hadn’t been doing the best job of showing it.

She sighed again, deeply, letting the warm water cascade over her body.

She would make it up to her, in time, prove to Clarke through actions rather than words that she was loved and beautiful and wonderful and everything good about the world, because to Lexa, that’s exactly what she was, and Lexa wouldn’t have her any other way.

* * *

 

Clarke paused for a brief moment before entering  _ The Mountain _ , steeling herself.

While she’d gone to work continuously since what she’d deemed ‘the incident’ between herself and Ilian, the two of them had skirted around one another, never really interacting, which was a blessing as much as it was a curse. As much as she’d like to avoid him forever, he was, like it or not, her boss.

He was there, in the back room, sorting through some papers, and nodded curtly at her upon noticing her arrival.

“Griffin.” His tone was clipped, professional, with an underlying edge that put Clarke on alert.

“Ilian.”

It was awkward, painfully so, as Clarke hurried to put her bag down.

“There’s paperwork to archive that’s backlogged, and when you’ve finished that you can go out on the floor and assist with any patrons,” he said, never making eye-contact.

“What will you be doing?”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes and Clarke swallowed audibly.

“Not that it’s any of your business, considering I’m your superior, but I have a few errands to run for Mr. Wallace today. Now, get to work, you don’t get paid to sit around and look pretty.” At that, he turned sharply on his heel and walked out the door, leaving Clarke alone to her own devices.

Paperwork was something she hadn’t been stuck with since her first week working at the Mountain, so she figured this was Ilian’s way of enacting his revenge. All things considered, it could have been much worse, but still, the task was tedious and menial and Clarke’s capabilities were much beyond that of  _ paperwork _ . Dante Wallace himself had commented that some of Clarke’s pieces might find themselves in one of his galleries, some day.

Still, Clarke knew that the ego of a male rejected was not one to be trifled with, so she kept her head down and did as she was told, bored out of her mind as she was.

**_Edgelord_ **

_ You still alive? _

_ Or did the fuckboy kill you? _

Murphy, like Lexa, was positively itching with the desire to serve Ilian a new one, and only Clarke’s copious amount of blackmail had kept him at bay. Though he’d never admit it, his actions were eerily similar to that of a protective older brother, and while Clarke adored him for it, sometimes it could be a bit much.

**_Gay Mess_ **

_ Yeah, he’s just being hostile. _

_ You can swing by if you want, he’s running errands. _

_ And I’m stuck doing paperwork. _

_ :/ _

**_Edgelord_ **

_ Tragic _

_ Omw _

Clarke smiled, tucking her phone back away in her pocket before returning to the paperwork with a newfound vigor so that she could get to the floor at Murphy’s arrival. He was truly a godsend.

In true Murphy fashion, he strolled in wearing ripped skinny jeans and a leather jacket, looking every bit a delinquent, completely unlike the usual patrons to grace the halls of the gallery. All he needed was a cigarette and Ilian would be positively  _ seething _ .

“It smells like old people and depression in here,” he decided as soon as he took a step in, a small smile quirking at his lips, “oh, how I love art.”

Clarke smiled at him in return, motioning towards the displays.

“Wanna look around?”

The only other people present were regulars, people who already knew more about the art than even Clarke herself, and wouldn’t need to hear anything from her. Murphy nodded, and allowed himself to be lead, nodding every time Clarke said something that he found agreeable or amusing.

“Ahem.”

The two of them turned in the middle of Clarke’s explanation of a series of pieces centered around the seasons by an up-and-coming artist who had been a Polis alumni, Ilian standing behind them, arms crossed.

“Last time I checked, work wasn’t a social hour.” Murphy’s eyes narrowed, his jaw set stubbornly, and Clarke reached to place a hand on his elbow in an attempt to calm him.

“It’s not,” Murphy drawled, “I’m just another art enthusiast, looking at the art.” He motioned widely at the display they were at. “Clarke was doing a wonderful job of explaining to me the effects of the medium on the viewer until you so generously interrupted the two of us.”

The three of them stood there for a long moment, and Clarke was reminded of the old western movies she and her father used to watch together, before Ilian’s nose crinkled distastefully and he turned away.

“Right. Well, be on your way, then, don’t loiter too long.”

“Dick,” Murphy muttered under his breath as soon as he was out of earshot, tone thick with suspicion, “I’m worried about him.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agreed after a moment, “me too.”

* * *

 

Lexa paced the floor of her shared apartment absentmindedly, looking down at where her phone rested on the counter every other moment. Pacing was a nervous habit she had picked up from her early childhood that both of her parents had frowned at, and she could distinctly remember them scolding her about wearing down the carpet and how nervous energy could always be funnelled into something productive rather than something mindless and destructive.

It was a habit she’d learned to shake with time, but like all nervous habits, it sometimes had a talent for sneaking up on her when she was at her most vulnerable.

Aden had called her earlier in an attempt to lighten her mood, encourage her at the prospect of her chances at the promotion, but she couldn’t shake the thought that somehow she hadn’t been good enough, hadn’t proven herself, even though she’d tried her damndest.

Clarke, too, had tried to reassure her, but not even Clarke’s soothing tone and healing kisses had done much to lessen Lexa’s anxiety, especially considering Clarke had to  _ leave _ , go to her job, to Ilian, and when had their lives become so complicated? Lexa yearned for the lazy days of their youth―and it seemed silly to call it their youth, considering it was less than a year ago, but in terms of emotional turmoil it seemed like  _ eons _ ―at Arkadia, stargazing in their flower field, soaking in the simplicity of being together and that being enough.

But now there were expectations and outer forces trying to tear them apart and goals that were impossible to meet and it was all so  _ exhausting _ .

Lexa sighed and rubbed at her temples, pinched at the bridge of her nose, tried to relieve some of the tension that had built up over the course of her nervous movement, stave off the migraine that she could already feel building at the back of her skull.

All of this stress for just one promotion,  _ one _ .

And this was what she was meant to do for the rest of her life?

She’d grown up knowing that eventually it’d be her job, her  _ duty _ , to take on the responsibility of the Woods legacy, to carry on after her parents, and her grandparents before them, and continue with the empire they had worked so tirelessly to build. But the closer she got to this future that had been predetermined for her, the less sure of herself she became.

_ “What good is the work we do, if we can’t stand it ourselves?”  _ Alie’s words echoed in her ears, and Lexa shook her head, grounding herself. She could do this, she was  _ born  _ to do this. Losing focus is what Alie wanted, what the world wanted. She had to prove herself, to her parents, to the world, to whatever higher forces of nature  _ dared  _ challenge her.

From its position on the counter, Lexa’s phone rang.

She halted in her pacing immediately and took a single, deep breath, before picking it up with a purpose, her voice calm and cool, the very essence of the commander persona she had constructed around herself.

“Hello?”

“ _ Alexandria _ ,” her father greeted her, and Lexa noted with a small rush of anxiety the use of her full name. As they’d taken the time to reacquaint themselves, her parents had grown used to calling her Lexa, as everyone else did, and usually only resorted to using Alexandria when the matter was serious, “ _ I hope you haven’t been waiting too long for our call.” _

“Of course not,” Lexa responded smoothly, “I’ve been working on assignments, but I made sure to clear out space for when you said to expect you.” That was a lie, of course. Anxiety had kept her from being productive from the moment she’d woken up to the moment she’d picked up the phone, but they didn’t need to know that, didn’t need to pick up on any sign of apparent weakness in their daughter, their heiress.

“ _ Congratulations on your title, by the way, darling,”  _ there was her mother, voice smooth in all the places that Alexander’s was coarse, “ _ we would have called earlier but we were caught up in a conference in Tokyo. Aden did send us a link to a livestream, though.” _

“Thank you,” it was a tactic, Lexa knew, to try and calm her down, ease her into the conversation. A tried-and-true method that all predators knew, luring prey into a false sense of security before striking. Nevertheless, she appreciated it, and smiled, making a mental note to thank Aden for his thoughtfulness, “we all know that you haven’t called me to discuss football, though.”

Alexander chuckled, and she could imagine him, sitting with her mother, perhaps in their living room, or in the foyer, or his office, maybe even the breakfast nook, if they were feeling particularly casual.

“ _ Always straight to the point, you get that from your mother.” _

Comments like that made Lexa pause, because how could she have inherited traits from a mother and father who were so absent? They were the sort of thoughts that left her bitter, thoughts that she tried to stay away from, because at least they were trying  _ now _ , but their newfound remorse did nothing to make up for the fact that they hadn’t tried  _ then _ .

Alexander paused, the humor fading from his tone, discernable even from over the phone.

“I didn’t get the promotion, did I?” Lexa prompted, voice oddly clear of any emotion, and the answering silence was more than enough to confirm her suspicions.

“ _ I’m sorry,” _  there was her mother again, apologizing once more, “ _ it’s just you’re so young, and there’s still so much time for you to grow and take on a role at the company, and for now Alie has much more experience and it doesn’t make sense to allow a college freshman such a position of power, regardless of whether or not you’re our daughter.” _

_ “Especially because you’re our daughter,” _  Alexander added, “ _ then it becomes favoritism.” _

Lexa nodded to herself even though they couldn’t see it, trying to rationalize, trying to quell her emotions, and swallowed, choking down the rising need to scream.

“Right,” she agreed, “of course, it makes sense.” Her mother started speaking once more, no doubt trying to placate her, but Lexa’s thoughts drifted to another time, when she was much younger, desperate for her parents’ approval.

* * *

 

_ “Aunt Indra! Uncle Gus!” Lexa smiled toothily as her aunt and uncle walked into her home, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, and they smiled back equally as wide. “Where’s Anya?” _

_ “Wrestling with her shoes in the car,” Indra said fondly, “she’ll be here in a minute. But how’s my favorite niece doing?” She knelt down to scoop Lexa into a hug that the little girl melted into, arms wrapped tightly around her aunt’s neck, almost desperate for physical touch. _

_ “I’m your only niece,” Lexa pointed out. _

_ “Which makes you the best,” Indra quipped, moving to set Lexa down, “and you look lovely as ever, are you excited for your recital?” Lexa nodded rapidly, giving her aunt an experimental twirl in the white dress Roma had helped her pick out. Piano had been something her parents had suggested, and they’d promised to be back and in attendance for her first recital, so she was practically vibrating at the prospect of seeing them. _

_ “Nice dress, branwada.” _

_ Lexa stuck out her tongue as Anya entered the home, but smiled when her cousin came to hug her. _

_ “Where are Aunt Ana and Uncle Alex?” _

_ “I would like to know that as well,” Indra muttered, with a cool look in Gustus’ direction as if to say, your sister and her husband are ridiculous, as Roma walked into the foyer, Aden balanced on her hip, dressed smartly in a little button-up shirt and suspenders. _

_ “Their flight was running a little late, they’ll meet us at the venue,” Roma offered, and Indra nodded, tight-lipped. _

_ “Has Lexa been practicing every day?” Gustus asked Aden seriously, scooping him out of Roma’s arms. “You can be honest with me, little guy.” Aden nodded sharply, big blue eyes solemn. _

_ “Lexie’s the best,” he elaborated, and Lexa puffed up at the praise, even though it was from her arguably biased baby brother. _

_ “Every day,” Lexa promised, turning to her uncle, “I really want to make mom and dad proud, since they’re always so busy and I know that it’s hard for them to take time out of their schedule to see us―” she failed to notice how pinched Indra’s expression became, as the words left her mouth, how Gustus’ shoulders drooped and Roma’s expression turned downtrodden “―so I know that I have to be perfect for this, to show them that I’m living up to the Woods name.” _

_ She was six years old. _

_ “Don’t grow up too fast, little one,” Indra told her, brushing a stray bit of hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. “You are perfect as you are, always.” _

_ Lexa looked up at her curiously and frowned. Her father had always told her that was perfection was something that everyone needed to strive for, to work toward their entire lives actively. Success will pass those who are passive, he had said, and she didn’t really understand what that meant other than the fact that she always needed to be better than she was. _

_ She didn’t want to displease her aunt, however, so she nodded hesitantly. _

_ “Right,” Roma said, clearing her throat, “are we ready for dinner before we head over?” Aden grinned and clapped his hands with a childish innocence that had long since left Lexa, cheering for dino nuggets (Lexa knew that her parents wouldn’t allow for such things, but she couldn’t think to deprive Aden of anything) and they left for the dining room. _

_ Since Lexa was six, and still a beginner, regardless of how talented her tutor was, her piece for the recital was fairly simple, so she felt well prepared. _

_ They arrived together, her aunt and uncle and cousin and baby brother and Roma, and Lexa immediately left to join the other piano students, neck craning to see if she could catch a fleeting glimpse of her parents in the sea of people already gathered, but had no such luck. _

_ “It’s okay,” she whispered to herself, ignoring the looks that the other children gave her, “their flight was just running late. They’ll be here.” She repeated it to herself like a mantra in her head. They’ll be here. They’ll be here. They’ll be here. _

_ As she waited backstage, she paced, shoes clicking against the linoleum, and still, she repeated. _

_ They’ll be here. _

_ They’ll be here. _

_ They have to be here. _

_ And then it was her turn. Lexa breathed deeply, composing herself, because a Woods could show no signs of weakness, and marched out onto the stage and towards the piano, bowing low before the audience before beginning her piece. Small, skinny fingers danced over ivory keys, never once hitting the wrong one, always on beat with the metronome playing inside of her head. _

_ Perfect, she whispered in victory inside of her head, a small smile spreading across her face. A performance to make her parents proud. _

_ She stood tall, shoulders squared, as those gathered clapped, and bowed, retreating once more backstage, waiting for the others to finish, waiting for it to be over, waiting to run outside and greet her family, her parents, to ask them what they’d thought, how she’d done, to hear their praise and maybe, for once, be told that she was good. _

_ That they were proud of her. _

_ That she was enough. _

_ They weren’t there. _

_ They never were. _

* * *

 

“ _...and really, now you’ll have more time to focus on football and think about what you really want for yourself,”  _ Anastasia’s voice drifted into Lexa’s ears, pulling her away from her thoughts. What she really wanted for herself. “ _ You’re not even twenty yet, Lexa, you have all the time in the world to decide what you want for your future. Right now, you just need to take time to live.” _

“ _ And just know _ ,” Alexander added, “ _ that we’re proud of you and everything that you accomplish, regardless of what path you decide to take.” _  Her throat constricted as words she’d ached to hear since she was a child washed over her, years too late yet somehow still comforting, still needed.

“Thanks,” her voice wobbled, and Lexa let it, because if there was anything Clarke had taught her it was that emotions weren’t weakness, and Lexa was  _ allowed  _ to let herself feel.

“ _ We love you, Lexa.” _

It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.

Lexa didn’t feel much like answering.

“Yeah, you too.”

And then, with a soft  _ click _ , the call ended, and Lexa was left alone, once more, with nothing but the thoughts of her own inadequacy, the ghosts of repressed childhood memories that she’d never address, and an aching sense of loneliness and abandonment that she might never shake.

But, on top of all of that, there was also a newfound sense of  _ freedom _ .

Because she was Lexa  _ fucking  _ Woods, and she could do whatever she wanted. She didn’t need to prove herself to anyone, especially not the parents who’d abandoned her when she’d needed them the most, and spending her time stressing and laboring over a company that had only ever brought her life pain was entirely senseless.

What she wanted was happiness and love and  _ Clarke _ , and to get rid of everything that had somehow managed to wedge its way between the two of them, and damn if she wasn’t going to fix the mess that she’d somehow found herself in.

Things, in that moment, were looking up.

Murphy’s law, however, dictated, in the most simple of forms, that if there was the potential for something to go wrong, it  _ would _ , and Lexa’s phone rang again, this time displaying Murphy’s name.

“Murphy?” Lexa answered. “What’s up?” There was the muffled sound of sobbing in the background and Lexa was immediately on alert. “Is that Clarke? What’s happening?”

“ _ I got Clarke to my place, but can you get here ASAP? It’s bad.” _

“What happened?”

“ _ Her iCloud got hacked.” _

* * *

 

Clarke really hadn’t remembered much of anything.

She had been talking with Murphy, waiting impatiently for the final minutes of her shift, when her phone started going off like crazy.

There was a moment, where she and Murphy exchanged glances, the sound of her phone reverberating throughout the spacious gallery.

People were glancing at her, tilting their heads in curiosity.

It wasn’t a couple of chimes, or beeps, or anything mundane like that.

It was  _ hundreds. _

Back to back.

It sounded a little like an emergency alarm.

“Is that….” Murphy trailed off.

Clarke glanced at the screen, endless notifications bumping each other out of her view.

She could barely read their content, all she saw was: facebook, twitter, instagram.

A few words kept catching her eye:  _ sexy, nude, scar. _

Clarke’s hands were shaking, and she felt her heart palpitate. She dared to open one of the images that flashed on her feed.

It was her.

It was a private photo meant for Lexa’s eyes and Lexa’s eyes alone.

Clarke’s heart dropped into her stomach. She felt sick, sicker than she remembered feeling in ages. She felt her vision start to turn grainy, black and white and then blurry.

Murphy was holding her arm. He’d seen the picture too, muttered an “Oh, fucking hell” and then proceeded to guide Clarke out to his car.

Ilian was staring at them, mouth agape, brows knitted as he tried to figure out what possibly could’ve been going on.

“Clarke?” He called. “Griffin! You still have five minutes on the-”

“You can take those five minutes and shove them up your bleached asshole!” Murphy snapped, shocking patrons to the point of gasping. “Woods is gonna kick your ass!”

Clarke was barely walking properly, unable to parse whatever else was happening.

“I’m calling Lexa.” Murphy murmured, settling her in the passenger seat. “Hang in there, Griff.”

* * *

 

Clarke was just about catatonic until she felt Lexa’s arms wrap around her, coaxing her back into existence, painful as it was.

The tears on Lexa’s face, paired with her bitter expression, must have relayed to Clarke that she  _ knew.  _ She saw. Even her out of touch, busy as hell girlfriend had seen the pictures.

That’s how quickly they were spreading, not just among the students at Polis, but their entire social media networks.

Perks of dating a rising star, it seemed.

Clarke’s brain was fried, essentially.

She’d spent so much time trying to calculate what would happen next, a byproduct of her anxiety, to a point where she terrified herself in the process. She’d had it figured- first, the shock. Then, the ridicule. Her figure, the subject of people’s cruel jokes and commentary for months now, was finally in the public eye. Her sexual relationship with Lexa, as well. If they wouldn’t attack her out of spite, they would out of jealousy. Her scar, the next order of business. Her scar was in very plain view, considering she never hid it from Lexa.

All of these thoughts and worries swam inside her mind, with no way out, and the effect was terrible.

And then, Clarke absolutely had to think of Lexa’s reaction.

Lexa was going to dump her, this time, she was sure of it. If not for all the negative media attention she was about to garner, it would be Lexa’s own “hero complex”. Lexa would blame herself, and tell Clarke they should break up “for her own good”.

When Clarke heard Lexa’s soft tone, speaking with Murphy in the kitchen, she didn’t move. She was curled up on the couch, trying so desperately to keep her breathing even. She couldn’t tell if she was being irrational, or if she was over thinking things, and she hated it. She hated that her anxiety and inability to cope left her with such a clouded, cluttered mind. She wanted to be calm, to think nothing of it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. On top of everything, she felt weak. Weak, and ashamed.

If she hadn’t thought to send those to Lexa in the first place, none of this would have happened, right?

It was her own damn fault.

Or, so she  _ wrongly  _ thought.

She could hear Murphy’s low murmur of “I’m going to be in the library. Take your time. Help her.”

The door shut behind him, and Clarke could hear Lexa’s boots click on the floor.

Lexa approached slowly, sitting beside Clarke on the couch. She reached for Clarke, and Clarke willingly came, curling up into her arms, burying her face in the safest place in the world: The crook of Lexa’s neck.

Clarke clung to Lexa, and Lexa clung to Clarke, tight, steadfast, unmoving.

A half hour passed before either one uttered anything at all.

Clarke noticed, immediately, how soothed she was by Lexa’s presence.

Lexa was stroking her back, breathing deeply, occasionally kissing Clarke’s head.

Clarke almost forgot all about what had happened. She could smell Lexa’s perfume, and under that, the scent of her clean clothes, and under  _ that,  _ Lexa’s scent. It was sweet and clean and beautiful, and Clarke reveled in it. She could feel Lexa’s arms wound around her, tight and muscled, making her feel more secure than she had in weeks.

Clarke was realizing that Lexa really was  _ it  _ for her.

There couldn’t be a breakup, there couldn’t be a replacement, there was absolutely no one on Earth that Clarke could ever love as much as she adored Lexa.

No one made her feel safe, calm, and loved, like Lexa.

She prayed that Lexa’s train of thought was similar, because she needed  _ solutions. _

After some time, Lexa murmured, “I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

Over, and over.

Clarke sniffled in response, and she could hear that Lexa had cried for her as well, and for some reason, strange as it was, it made her heart ache and flutter at once.

Lexa always said she felt Clarke’s pain, but she really, truly did. Lexa was as in tune with Clarke as possible, and it only made Clarke feel better, because Lexa understood.

“I…” Clarke tried to speak, but her throat gave out in a sort of hiccup, and Lexa soothingly rubbed her back in response, as if to say  _ take your time. _

Clarke took a breath, and tried again. “I…”

And then she paused.

Because she realized she was speechless.

And really, what  _ did  _ someone say in a time like this?

“I’m tired.” She settled, licking her lips.

“I know, love, you can sleep-” Lexa was abruptly cut off, as Clarke shook her head, leaning back, off Lexa.

“No. Not like that. I’m...I’m tired of… dealing with this  _ shit _ .” Clarke whispered, sounding furious.

Lexa’s eyes widened, but she nodded, trying to follow. “I know...and it’s my fault for-”

“No.” Clarke snapped, standing up. She looked at Lexa in the eyes, begging her soul to understand. “It’s not.”

“It’s...not?” Lexa echoed, brow furrowed in confusion, adorably so.

“No.” Clarke gritted. “Is it our fucking fault for living our lives? For being in love? Is it our fucking  _ fault  _ that I  _ privately _  sent you pictures because I  _ love you  _ and wanted to share that with you?!” Clarke was roaring at full volume now, and it was a spectacle.

Rarely did Clarke ever get angry.

Hopeless? Sure. Self-conscious? Absolutely.

So angry that she was shaking? Hardly.

Lexa was absolutely concerned for her. “Clarke…” She trailed off. “I didn’t...I didn’t share the pictures-”

“I know!” Clarke complained loudly, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Because you’re sweet and protective and my dream girl and my future wife and  _ that’s  _ why I fucking sent you lingerie pics, because you fucking deserve them!” Clarke snapped.

Lexa blinked, trying to parse Clarke’s words. Was she...complimenting her through yelling?

“I’m tired.” Clarke huffed, watching Lexa slowly stand up. “I’m tired of being ashamed of what I post, and not wanting to be seen with you because of the shit I  _ know  _ will come my way.”

Lexa winced, and Clarke bit her lip, mustering the strength to continue.

“I’m tired of not wanting to wear crop tops and tank tops and bikinis and shorts because of my scar!” Clarke cried. “And I’m tired of acting like we don’t do things that every other couple does.”

Lexa was nodding, slowly, trying to follow. “What does this mean, then?” She asked carefully, trying not to be afraid of the answer.

Clarke took a step forward, taking a breath.

Lexa was readying herself.

_ “Lexa, I’m going back to Arkadia.” _

_ “Lexa, we’re over, baby.” _

_ “Lexa, I can’t do this anymore.” _

“Lexa.” Clarke cleared her throat. “Fuck them.”

Lexa froze. “What?” She sputtered.

“Fuck them, Lex. I’m done caring.” Clarke murmured. “I want to be with you all the time, I want to wear whatever I want, I want to send my fucking girlfriend whatever I want...They’re going to say things about us anyway, baby. It’s time I learned not to give a damn.”

Lexa was in awe. She’d never seen Clarke adopt this sort of attitude. With her anxiety...it wasn’t simply as easy as shucking off the thoughts and opinions of others. Had Clarke...snapped?

Clarke took Lexa’s hands, and settled them on her hips. Lexa took a breath, watching Clarke’s arms go around her neck, their favorite intimate position, where Lexa could gaze down endlessly into Clarke’s eyes.

“I feel like this year has been a test.” Clarke sighed, leaning into Lexa’s touch. “Everything that  _ could  _ go wrong…. _ did  _ go wrong. And you and I...we care so much. I care about what they were saying about me, and you with your parents and the job, which...I hope you get, baby, but-”

“I didn’t.” Lexa whispered, a wry little grin on her face.

Clarke blinked. “You...what?”

“I got the call while you were at work. I was...denied the job.” Lexa repeated.

“Why...why are you smiling?” Clarke gaped, moving a hand to soothing stroke her cheek. “Baby, you worked so hard for this.”

“I didn’t want it. Not really. My parents don’t even...I did it for them. And, I’m realizing, the only person I should be doing these kinds of things for is you. Because your opinion is the only one that matters, Clarke. Yours and mine.”

Clarke smiled, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Lexa’s mouth.

“That’s what I’m saying.” Clarke whispered. “You and I deserve each other, and that’s it. We overcomplicate things, when we forget that. And I’m tired of measuring myself to everyone’s expectations, Lex.”

“Clarke.” Lexa murmured, moving her hands to cup Clarke’s cheeks. “I will tell you as many times as I need to. You are the most stunning, beautiful person I’ve  _ ever  _ seen, inside and out. I want you to believe it.”

Clarke nodded slowly, leaning into Lexa’s touch. “Have you realized that you’re amazing without your parents’ approval, yet?”

Lexa smiled. “...It’ll take some time, but I think we’re finally on the right track.”

Clarke took a breath, trying to steady herself. “I just...I can’t believe this happened. This...was the final straw.”

Lexa’s jaw set, and Clarke felt chills run through her, as she recognized her protective side surface. Something about it made her feel safe, oddly enough.

“It was a violation of our privacy.” Lexa growled lowly. “Of  _ your  _ privacy.”

“You think...it was someone we know?”

“I will have my parents send someone to look into it.”

“Lexa, why would your parents-”

“Clarke, we’re a  _ tech  _ company. I am  _ positive  _ there are a few strings to pull.” Lexa murmured, pulling Clarke against her. “I know I was...absent, for a few months. I’m done, not being there, Clarke. I’m going to fix this. All of this. I promise.”

Clarke nodded, resting her head against Lexa’s chest.

“What are we going to do?” Clarke murmured. “Just...go back to normal?”

Lexa’s jaw set. “No.” She decided. “...Do you remember our hypothetical conversation? Earlier? About just...dropping everything. Leaving, chasing each other, away from everything. You said you would. I said I would…”

Clarke glanced up at Lexa with wide eyes. “Are you…”

Lexa took hold of Clarke’s hand, leading her to the door. “Come on, Clarke.”

* * *

 

Lexa came down from their closet, reappearing with two suitcases, setting them down in front of Clarke.

Clarke watched Lexa operate with some...previously untapped ferocity. Lexa’s jaw was still clenched, her thoughts no doubt thoughts of vengeance.

Clarke’s eyes widened, and she blinked.

“Lexa, baby, you’re mad as hell-”

“Yes, but not at you.” Lexa answered softly, regarding Clarke with the most beautiful and sincere glance. “I’m going to  _ kill  _ someone, when we get back.”

Clarke licked her lips, glancing at the suitcases.

God, an impromptu trip with Lexa. It sounded so….romantic. So spontaneous. She was in love with the idea.

But reality, unfortunately, was an issue.

“Lexa…” Clarke sighed hopelessly. “What about school?”

Lexa smirked. “It’s spring break, Clarke.”

Clarke took a moment, counting the days in her head. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and she launched herself into Lexa’s arms, peppering her face with kisses.

“I know.” Lexa laughed, “I almost forgot.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Clarke mumbled, pushing Lexa back towards the bed.

“I love you, too.” Lexa promised sincerely. “I’ll kill whoever is responsible, Clarke.”

“I don’t even care.” Clarke confessed, pushing Lexa back, watching her fall back on the bed, as she climbed over. “I don’t care.” She repeated. “My phone has been going off. All our friends have contacted me, my social media is exploding...my reputation is cemented as...god knows what, now, and I  _ don’t care. _ ” Clarke drawled, hovering over Lexa. “I just want you. I just want to be a crazy stupid spontaneous college kid, in love with you. Do I sound crazy?”

Lexa shook her head, breathless, as Clarke leaned down to kiss her. She slid her hands up to Clarke’s waist, and then her shirt, lifting it up.

Clarke allowed her, breathing heavily as she watched Lexa remove her shirt, eyes tracing her bra clad torso, and then her scar, lovingly.

“God.” Lexa leaned back into the pillow for a moment, catching her breath, and Clarke blushed. Lexa mustered the strength to lean up, kissing every inch of Clarke’s face, before slowly descending down. Her mouth, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, the valley of her breasts, and finally, the scar.

Lexa paid extra attention to kissing it lovingly, glancing up at Clarke with the most loving, innocent gaze. “I love you.” Lexa it fall from her lips like a prayer, and Clarke was immediately reminded of her first time with Lexa, and how shaken she’d been when Lexa had  _ kissed her scar. _  She didn’t think anyone could love her, let alone  _ it. _

But Lexa was otherworldly.

Lexa really, truly loved everything about her, just as Clarke adored every single thing about Lexa.

She was glad that they finally,  _ finally  _ had time to just  _ be together. _

And it was only the strangest, most dire of circumstances that seemed to bring them together.

“Baby.” Clarke whined, and Lexa kissed her stomach one last time before sliding back up to Clarke’s lips, her deft hands undoing Clarke’s pants.

“May I?” Lexa asked softly.

“Of course.” Clarke nearly choked out against her.

She was always so, so sweet, asking beforehand, making sure Clarke was always on the same page.

Lexa kissed her lips with a pleasant pace, her fingers slowly rolling Clarke’s pants down, Clarke eventually pausing to stand, wanting to speed up the process.

Lexa followed suit and stood, taking off her shirt, and then her jeans, her calvins framing her body in the most deliciously sinful way.

“Fuck.” Clarke whispered, pulling Lexa in for a kiss. Her hands pressed against the flat iron of Lexa’s abs, and she grazed her nails against them as she leaned in closer. Her hands skirted around Lexa’s side, and down to her ass.

Lexa moaned shamelessly into Clarke’s mouth as Clarke’s fingers cupped the firm round curve of Lexa’s ass, perhaps a rival of Clarke’s love for her abs. Clarke pulled Lexa against her, tightly, her fingers hooking in the curves of her calvins. “Off.” She muttered into Lexa’s mouth, and Lexa obeyed, slowly dropping them to the ground, Clarke’s fingers digging into her exposed skin.

“And the bra.” Clarke murmured, her own fingers going to assist Lexa in making herself bare and ready for Clarke’s love. Clarke resisted a gasp as Lexa’s pert breasts fell free of their trappings, and she gently drew her fingers down along the valley of Lexa’s breasts, delicately inching her way towards satisfaction.

And then she took a step back, breaking their contact.

Lexa was a  _ vision. _

Gorgeous, angelic, these words couldn’t begin to describe the way she felt about her girlfriend, her soulmate, her best friend.

Her hair was beautiful, sitting over her shoulders, immaculate ringlet curls giving way to softer waves. Her emerald eyes were piercing and yet soft, loving. Her lips, kiss swollen and  _ perfect,  _ were parted slightly as her breathing evened.

Her body was absolute perfection, to Clarke. Her breasts were pert and perfect, rosy nipples begging for attention. Her arms, tattooed and muscled, folded behind her back. Her abs, somehow not too hard, soft and feminine like her, defined and ready for Clarke’s kisses, for her to grind on, to  _ feel. _

And her legs, long and enticing, gathering heat at their part.

“Oh my god.” Clarke murmured, and it just...hit her. She was simply falling in love with Lexa all over again.

“What?” Lexa tilted her head to the side, as if she were clueless on just how breathtaking she looked.

“Nothing.” Clarke whispered. “I just...I love you. I just really love you, Lexa.”

Lexa smiled, brightly, as if that statement made her the happiest person alive (and it did).

“...is it weird that I want to hug you now?” Clarke laughed, and Lexa grinned, shaking her head. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa, kissing her shoulder. “I was thinking that...despite all these bad things that happen, I just...couldn’t imagine my life without you, you know? You’re my rock, and my best friend. You’re worth all of it.”

Lexa held back the lump in her throat, reveling in the feeling of being held by Clarke.

“Sorry.” Clarke croaked. “I didn’t mean to get emotional during sex.”

Lexa chuckled, and the vibrations made Clarke’s stomach flip.

“It’s  _ making love.”  _ Lexa teased. “It’s supposed to be passionate.”

“I’ve never had anything less, with you.” Clarke replied, taking her hand, guiding her back to bed.

Lexa’s chest puffed in pride and Clarke rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. I’ve never been with anyone else, either.”

Lexa only smiled at that, watching Clarke remove her own bra, her eyes following the bounce of Clarke’s full breasts as she set them free.

Slowly, Clarke peeled off her panties, leaving them on the floor as she crawled up between Lexa’s thighs, parting them gently.

Lexa whined softly.

“Oh, you’re gonna wait your turn.” Clarke smirked, kissing Lexa’s thigh. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long, long time.” She slowly parted Lexa’s thighs, eyes fixing on her slick, wet heat. She lazily brushed her finger against Lexa’s folds, eliciting a moan that made  _ her  _ wet. “Apparently, so have you, baby.” Clarke murmured.

Lexa’s hips bucked in response at the pet name.

“Don’t worry.” Clarke whispered, sucking a kiss into the paler skin of Lexa’s inner thigh, making sure to leave a mark. “I won’t tease you. Today’s all about  _ pleasure. _ ”

Lexa laced her fingers in Clarke’s hair. “Love you.” She whispered, as Clarke descended on her, taking all of Lexa’s dripping folds in a flat swipe of her tongue.

“Fuck.” Clarke groaned against her. “God, you’re soaking.”

Lexa moaned, pulling Clarke closer, urging her to continue.

“Are you all wet for me, Woods?” Clarke couldn’t resist teasing a little, reaching her fingers up to scrape against Lexa’s twitching abs, feeling herself grow more aroused by the second. She could  _ feel  _ Lexa tensing deliciously at the dirty talk, and decided to take it a notch further. “Are you  _ drenched  _ at the thought of me eating out your pussy?” Clarke licked her lips, watching Lexa writhe.

“Yes.” Lexa groaned. “Yes, Clarke, please.”

Clarke felt bad, but couldn’t help her smirk as she ran her finger over Lexa’s clit, just barely touching it each time. Lexa would whine softly with each run of her finger, pulling Clarke closer, begging her to just fuck her already.

“You’re even beautiful like this.” Clarke murmured, drunk in awe of Lexa. “Especially like this.” She added softly, playing with Lexa rather than satiating her needs.

“Clarke.” Lexa warned.

Clarke smirked. “What, baby? What are you going to do?” She pressed against Lexa’s clit, and Lexa groaned softly.

“I’m going to  _ fuck  _ you.” Lexa groaned in exasperation. “So hard and good, Clarke. Just fucking wait-OH.”

Clarke decided that she’d teased Lexa enough, as she circled Lexa’s entrance with her tongue, pushing in slowly, and then out, slowly fucking her, deliberately building speed at a sustainable pace.

“Yes.” Lexa groaned, throwing her head back. “Fuck, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled as she worked, moving up to occasionally suck Lexa’s clit into her mouth before releasing it just as Lexa was reaching her peak.

Clarke then leaned back, much to Lexa’s dismay, and crawled up, until she was face to face with Lexa.

“Why….why did you stop?” Lexa fumbled for words, adorably frantic.

Clarke smirked, fingers reaching for Lexa’s breasts, palming them. “I like to make sure I pay  _ extra  _ thorough attention to my baby’s needs.”

Lexa groaned, burying her face in Clarke’s neck as she played with Lexa’s breasts, alternating between squeezing them and kneading before pinching her nipples, and drawing them into the wet heat of her mouth.

“Clarke.” Lexa writhed under her grasp, groaning and squirming. “Fuck, Clarke, I…”

“I know.” Clarke replied, releasing her nipple with a soft pop. Clarke then trailed down Lexa’s chest, nose brushing her skin and tickling her, following the trail of butterfly kisses.

Lexa watched her with unmatched adoration, savoring the feel of Clarke’s kisses as they lit her skin on fire. Clarke stopped at her abs, drawing her tongue out to tease as she drew it over the defined ridges of Lexa’s muscle before going back to place suckling kisses over her trail.

Lexa gasped and moaned, allowing Clarke to worship her the way she liked, just imagining her chance to worship Clarke, after. She’d missed being  _ this  _ connected to Clarke.

She groaned when she felt Clarke’s breasts drag against her abs as Clarke worked her way back down, placing wet kisses on Lexa’s red hot skin, burning with desire.

“Clarke.” Lexa groaned through gritted teeth, and Clarke thought it had to have been the sexiest moan ever.

“What is it, Lexa?” Clarke teased. “Do you want to come, baby?”

Lexa responded by pushing Clarke’s mouth to her dripping core with a low growl.

Clarke literally shuddered with arousal as she saw Lexa’s dominant side surface.

“Come for me, pretty girl.” Clarke smirked, lapping slowly, deliberately. She slipped two fingers into Lexa’s wet heat, gasping when she felt Lexa tense and clamp around her fingers almost instantly.

“Fuck me.” Lexa groaned, riding Clarke’s fingers, her hips swaying sexily, making Clarke  _ drip  _ with anticipation.

“I love you.” Clarke whispered against her, in between strokes of her tongue, and the pumping of her curled fingers. “I wanna see you come on my fingers, Lex. You’re so beautiful when you come for me.”

That was all it took to push Lexa over the edge, but Clarke went the extra mile, pulling her clit in between her lips, watching Lexa’s abs twitch and tighten as she came, eyes shut, her mouth formed in an “o” shape.

Clarke eased her out of her euphoria with kitten licks and the soft rubbing of her fingers on Lexa’s thigh until the bucking of her hips died down.

“God.” Lexa huffed, face flushed, head falling back onto the pillow. “You’re...too good at that.”

Clarke grinned proudly. “I learn from the very best.” She quipped, kissing her way back up to Lexa, where she was pulled into Lexa’s arms immediately.

Lexa’s chest was heaving, and for a moment, Lexa was still, content with breathing heavily and holding Clarke close, the two staring into each other’s eyes.

Lexa pulled Clarke to her lips, ending the silence by snaking her hands down to Clarke’s hips, pulling her on top of herself.

“You are stunning.” Lexa whispered in awe, watching as Clarke ran a hand through her blonde locks. Clarke rewarded her with a bright smile and Lexa was breathless again, as Clarke moved to sit atop her abs, their hands linked. “And a  _ fucking  _ tease.” Lexa murmured, leaning up to meet Clarke’s lips.

“I know I said this a thousand times already, but I love you.” Clarke groaned against her lips.

“I love hearing it.” Lexa promised, teasing Clarke’s lips with her tongue. “And I love you  _ more.” _  she uttered right back.

“Prove it.” Clarke challenged.

Lexa smirked and sucked on Clarke’s bottom lip, releasing it from between her teeth with a devilish look.

Clarke nearly fainted.

_ Fucking hell,  _ sometimes it would just hit her that she was fucking Alexandria Fucking Woods. Alexandria  _ panty-dropper  _ Anastasia Woods was her girlfriend. They were in love.

Clarke was allowed to  _ grind on Lexa Woods’ fucking abs. _

She wondered, with this realization, how she’d managed to get literally anything else done, ever.

Lexa’s hands possessively grabbed at her hips, as she began guiding Clarke’s hips, rolling them against her abs. She felt Clarke’s soaking folds against her and shuddered with arousal.

“Fuck.” Lexa whispered from beneath Clarke, leaning up to capture Clarke’s breast between her lips, showering each one with suckling kisses as Clarke began to lean into it a little more, riding her abs, her breasts swaying mesmerizingly close to Lexa each time.

Lexa glanced up at Clarke’s face, and she felt a fresh rush of attraction. Clarke’s eyes were lidded, her swollen lips parted as she would gasp here and there, whenever her clit was brushed  _ just  _ the right way.

Lexa had to throw her head back for a moment, and had she been aware that she was acting like a complete frat boy, lustfully gazing at Clarke as she rode her core, her full hips rolling smoothly.

But she was blissfully unaware, and she savored every second of it, devouring Clarke with her eyes. She slid her hands to Clarke’s ass, kneading and assisting in her attempts to grind against Lexa’s abs, whining whenever contact was made.

“You’re beautiful.” Lexa whispered sincerely, tucking a strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear. “I love watching you ride me, Clarke. You’re so wet, love. I can feel you  _ dripping  _ against me.”

Clarke groaned shamelessly, jerking her hips faster, hoping to get more contact.

“You’re mine.” Lexa groaned as she leaned up to kiss Clarke’s lips once more. She paused Clarke’s hips, her hands pinching Clarke’s skin gently, and then soothing the area with a feather light rub. “Ride my face.” Lexa murmured. Clarke’s eyes widened, and Lexa smirked. “I want to taste you.”

Clarke didn’t need to be asked twice. She carefully positioned herself above Lexa’s mouth, smiling and yelping when Lexa placed a wet kiss on the inside of her thighs, Lexa’s hands planting themselves against her ass.

“Grab the headboard.” Lexa nuzzled her inner thigh softly as she issued the order.

Clarke took her advice, grabbing the headboard with a vice-like grip.

“Lower yourself, love.” Lexa tapped her thigh, and Clarke was tentative for a moment. “It’s alright.” Lexa chuckled. “Don’t worry about me, I’m more than fine.”

Clarke fell for Lexa’s coaxing and the way she was placing nuzzling kisses against her inner thigh, and slowly lowered herself to Lexa’s lips.

And a feeling of indescribable  _ bliss  _ came over her as she did, Lexa’s tongue teasing expertly before dipping up into her, making her knees weak.

Clarke had never been so  _ in tune  _ with Lexa’s ministrations, even the  _ noises  _ of Lexa’s kisses, her sucking, the strokes of her tongue against Clarke’s wet folds enough to drive her to the edge.

Clarke’s hips started quivering as she struggled to keep from grinding down onto Lexa, her hands squeezing her ass, keeping her in place.

Clarke wasn’t sure that she had ever experienced anything quite like sex with Lexa, but this? This was otherworldly. This was caged passion, months of tension building up like it was their first time again, but  _ hotter,  _ more comfortable, because they knew each other.

But everything was stronger. The feelings, the sensations, the little moans of pleasure Lexa made as she messily ate Clarke out, moaning along with Clarke when sher orgasm absolutely shook her body, Lexa never stopping.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Clarke kept reciting, over and over again. “Yes, Lexa, baby, fuck. Fuck me.”

Lexa, to her credit, kept on as Clarke tightened and came, stars swimming in her vision.

Clarke tasted absolutely  _ intoxicating.  _ Lexa was living for it as she brought her hands down to steady Clarke’s shaking thighs.

Lexa kissed the inside of her thigh, once, twice, three times, easing her back to the world.

Slowly, Clarke retracted from her position, crawling back into Lexa’s waiting arms.

Lexa dabbed at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and Clarke swore the mental image alone gave her aftershocks as her hips jerked against Lexa in response, their legs tangling as they embraced, breathless.

“Fuck.” Clarke muttered, absolutely spent, clutching Lexa against her, even though she was hot, she couldn’t bear to be apart.

Lexa smiled in response, and it was sweet and caring, rather than the smirk she wore just moments before.

“This.” Clarke mumbled into her neck. “This is what I want, for the rest of my life. You, me, this love, I really don’t care about anything else.”

Lexa’s hands soothingly rubbed her back as she hummed her agreement. “Me too. Let’s pack?”

“Five minutes, pretty girl.” Clarke yawned, and Lexa chuckled, pulling the sheet over their bare bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, payback is coming. Till then, enjoy the ride.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fun, laid back chapter. We earned it!

Abby and Lexa had bought the jeep together, planned it as a gift to Clarke for the end of the year, perhaps, a reward for making it through with such shining grades, being a wonderful  _ everything _ , the best girlfriend, best friend, best daughter, but now, it seemed, it would have an earlier use. 

Clarke was finishing packing her things at home while Lexa journeyed out to fill the jeep with gas for their adventure  _ away  _ from all of it, the pressure, the scrutinizing eyes, the judgement. To go somewhere and just  _ be _ , like they had back in high school, back at Arkadia, where they were just two teenagers in love with nothing but the stars ahead of them. Murphy had texted her a list of appropriate road trip snacks to pick up as well, because she, according to Murphy, couldn’t be trusted to pick out junk food with her  _ crazyass rabit food diet _ . 

Lexa neglected to inform Murphy that she could pig out with the best of them on her cheat days and accepted the list graciously, and set off. 

With bags full of goodies and gas filling the tank, Lexa worried at her bottom lip and picked up her phone, quickly dialling Murphy’s number. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was still something off about all of this, about Clarke and the way she was acting, how calm she’d responded to the whole thing. 

She was excited for their adventure, sending Lexa frequent update on the status of what she’d packed, and seemed to be ignoring the issue of the hack completely. Lexa was worried that repressing her emotions in the name of  _ not giving a damn  _ was going to blow up in her face, eventually. 

“ _ What’s up, Woods?” _

God, when had Murphy become her go-to confidant on all things? It was a strange thought, one that Lexa from her early days at Arkadia would have vehemently rejected. Friends with a  _ delinquent _ . 

“I’m worried,” she admitted, after a brief lull of silence, and she didn’t need to elaborate on what, because Murphy knew, he always knew, always had a way of knowing. He sighed deeply on his end of the call, and she could imagine him, rubbing tiredly at the bridge of his nose, expression pinched as it always became when he was deep in thought. “I don’t know how to help her.”

“ _ I’m worried about her too, Lexa,” _ he said, voice softening as he used her first name, which was rare even though they’d become so close, “ _ apart from her initial reaction, which was panic, she just sort of… quelled, and then you came and got her, how’s she been acting?” _

“Weirdly normal,” Lexa informed him matter-of-factly, thinking back to Clarke, how she’d expecting the worst, and how Clarke surprised her. Clarke was always surprising her, always bursting with unknowns, but this time, Lexa wasn’t so sure if it was a good thing. “That can’t be good, right? Like, for processing purposes? Her privacy was just severely violated and her reaction was basically,  _ I don’t give a damn _ . Which is admirable in theory but it’s…” she trailed off, voice cracking somewhat with the effort of it all, because she was so  _ tired _ of having to watch Clarke go through all of this. “...it’s  _ Clarke _ .”

Murphy knew of Clarke’s history of insecurity perhaps just as well as Lexa did. He’d known her  _ before _ while Lexa had only known her  _ after _ , had seen her in the early days, small and scared and wilted, and coaxed her gently out of her shell, like she had for him. He’d been the one to help with the panic attacks before Lexa, had been her calming voice, her rock, because Murphy  _ knew _ what it was like. He’d lived it. 

It was hard to imagine Murphy small and scared and wilted when Lexa had only known him as he was now, headstrong and snarky and steady, a constant, comforting sort of presence in her life. 

“ _ Yeah, you can’t just… suddenly overcome all of your anxieties and insecurities like that,” _ Murphy said, confirming what Lexa had thought, “ _ she’s putting on a brave face at best, repressing at worst, and it’s all going to come to a boiling point and she’s going to crack.” _ Lexa blinked and nodded even though Murphy couldn’t see her. 

“How should I handle that?”

She had a fair idea of  _ how _ , but she could never be too sure. Lexa had bouts of anxiety, of nervousness, but nothing near to the extent of what Clarke dealt with, what Murphy dealt with, on a daily basis. 

“ _ Just be there for her,” _ she could practically feel Murphy shrug, through the phone call, “ _ like you have been, you seem to be doing a good job of it. She’ll need someone to talk to, when it happens, because this isn’t something that’s just going to go away, not even with a talk, anxiety stays with you, but it will be a chance for Clarke to minimize it, make peace.” _

“Sure I’m up for that?” Lexa muttered, and Murphy laughed. 

“ _ If anyone is, it’s you, Woods.” _

 

* * *

 

“Clarke?” Lexa knocked on their open bedroom door, a courteous habit that she’d formed under her strictly professional parents. 

“Are you...knocking on our  _ open  _ door?” Clarke grinned, emerging from the closet with a duffel bag on her shoulder. 

“Didn’t want to catch you indecent.” Lexa teased, opening her arms for Clarke to shuffle into a hug. 

Lexa kissed her head, relishing in the scent of Clarke’s shampoo. “Can I take that for you?” She offered, slipping her hand under Clarke’s bag strap, chivalrous as always. 

“What about your bag?” Clarke queried, kissing Lexa’s cheek in thanks. 

“Already in the car,” Lexa replied, linking her hand with Clarke’s. “Did you bring a sweater?” 

Clarke smiled sheepishly. “I brought the letterman and I stole your team hoodie.” 

“Looks better on you.” Lexa replied effortlessly, and Clarke kissed her knuckles in an unspoken  _ thank you.  _ “What’s mine is yours, Clarke.” 

“Speaking of mine and yours…” Clarke raised a brow. “How did you fit everything into the trunk? Your Audi is sexy, babe, but it’s not spacious.” 

“It was spacious enough for a victory round of sex after that one game in high school.” Lexa smirked, and Clarke blushed. Lexa grinned at her ability to distract Clarke so effortlessly as they made their way down to the parking structure. 

“You remember that?” Clarke balked. 

“You wore my jersey and rode my thigh.” Lexa mumbled in an appreciative tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.” 

Clarke preened. “I’m glad I had an impact, then.” 

Lexa laughed, stopping in front of the Jeep, enjoying it’s blacked out exterior, the way it shined. “Can you pop the trunk, love?”

Clarke fumbled for the keys, then blinked. “I thought you had the keys…” She murmured, glancing at the Audi, nearly seven or eight spots away. 

Lexa smirked. “Why are you looking at the Audi, Clarke?” 

Clarke froze. 

No fucking way. 

Lexa’s smirk only grew, her full lips drawn in a quirked line, her expression exceedingly happy for Clarke.

“No.” Clarke breathed, fingers skimming the back door. 

“Yes.” Lexa handed her the keys, pushing them into Clarke’s fingers. 

“No fucking way.” Clarke mumbled, making Lexa laugh, as she set Clarke’s bag down, wrapping her arms around Clarke from behind. 

“Do you like it?” Lexa purred by her ear, feeling Clarke shake as she laughed incredulously, unable to form words. 

“You did _ not. _ ” Clarke managed, feeling weak, glad for Lexa’s supporting hold. 

“I didn’t.” Lexa assured with a grin. “Well, I  _ half  _ didn’t.” 

“Alexandria Anastasia Fucking Woods.” Clarke wheeled around, cupping her cheeks with an intense ferocity, yet delicately, making for a comical scene. 

“I only helped a little.” Lexa kissed Clarke’s hand, smoothly turning her cheek, making Clarke blush an even deeper shade of red. “It’s really from Abby. We were waiting for the right time to surprise you, but…” She sighed. “I think today is perfect.” 

“There...that...is...a new car. A brand new jeep. A  _ sexy  _ blacked out brand new jeep.” Clarke mumbled, eyes widening. 

“Do you like it?” Lexa nudged her, nearly stumbling when Clarke pushed her back against the car, kissing her fiercely. 

“I.”  _ kiss. “ _ Can’t.”  _ kiss.  _ “Accept.”  _ kiss.  _ “This.”  _ kiss.  _

Lexa took a breath, her arms resting at Clarke’s hips. “Yes, you can.” 

“Lexa, I can’t-” 

“Clarke, it’s  _ my  _ money. Let me spend it-” 

“This is  _ your  _ money? God, I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse!” Clarke gasped. 

“Clarke, you  _ need  _ a car. This is everything. It has space, it’s worthy of someone of your beauty,  _ and  _ I made sure it was safe.” 

“I’m...I have to pay you back. I have savings-” 

Lexa narrowed her eyes. “Stop.” She warned. “This is a gift. From your  _ mother,  _ mostly..” 

“Lex! A potted plant is a gift! Not a car! This is crazy.”

“You don’t like it?” Lexa frowned. “I told Abby that you’d like the Jeep, but she wanted to get a-” 

“Lexa. It’s the sexiest car I’ve ever seen. Of  _ course  _ I like it!” Clarke laughed breathlessly, kissing Lexa again, conveying all the affection she could. 

“Then it’s yours.” Lexa murmured into her kiss. “Drive it.” She urged. “It’s fun.” 

“You are something else, you know that?” Clarke bit her lip, throwing her arms around Lexa in a tight hug.

Lexa closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Clarke in her arms. “I know this doesn’t make things better-” 

“It certainly helps.” Clarke laughed wryly. 

“Go.” Lexa urged. “I’ll enjoy from the passenger seat.” 

Clarke bit her lip. “How spacious is it?” She asked, opening the door to peer inside, in awe at the beautiful interior. 

“Um, I think it has-” Lexa was cut off by Clarke’s request. 

“Can you lay down across the back seats for me?” Clarke questioned. 

When Lexa quirked a brow, she added, “For measurements.” 

Lexa shrugged and laid across the seats, glancing up at Clarke, who hovered over her. 

“What exactly are you measuring?” Lexa quipped. 

“How much space we have for the sex we’re going to be having later.” Clarke replied with a smug grin at Lexa’s dropping jaw, kissing her thigh before leaning back, going to the driver’s seat. 

Lexa let her head fall back onto the seat, a stupid grin on her face. 

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this carefree and  _ happy.  _

 

* * *

 

Clarke hadn’t realized that she’d been driving for several hours until she noticed the sun beginning to set, not quite, but on its way. 

Lexa’s hand was laced with hers, as Lexa spent most of her time drinking Clarke in rather than the view, watching her every movement. Every blink, every time her lips moved to mouth whatever song was playing on the radio. 

It was nice, to simply feel like two carefree teenage lovers, following the golden sun and it shined along the coast, their school and stress whipping behind them with the oncoming breeze. 

They hadn’t really decided where they were going- Clarke just drove, and Lexa followed her to the ends of the Earth, and that was that. 

Clarke was following the coast for quite some time before finally pulling into a small, unoccupied beach off to the left. 

Slowly, the car rolled to a stop along the side, where gravel met sand, and further down, waves lapped steadily at the shore. 

Clarke rolled the windows up, moving her sunglasses to sit atop her wind-tossed hair, looking a bit ethereal with her white smile and sun-kissed look. 

Lexa felt her breath hitch just a little bit, and Clarke only leaned closer, her intoxicating scent filling Lexa’s lungs. 

“Wanna stretch our legs here?” Clarke rasped, and Lexa nodded, moving out as quickly as she could to open Clarke’s door for her. 

Clarke blushed a little in response, taking Lexa’s hand in hers before stepping out slowly, taking her time to stretch every muscle. 

“Thank you.” Clarke murmured as she laced her arms around Lexa’s neck, leaning up for a kiss. 

“Thank  _ you. _ ” Lexa replied softly, nuzzling Clarke with a look of affection. 

“For what?” Clarke scoffed. 

“Driving.” Lexa replied knowingly. 

“It was kind of effortless.” Clarke admitted. “It’s relaxing.” 

“So is watching you.” Lexa smiled. “It makes me feel happy, seeing you hum and smile and just...enjoy yourself.” 

Clarke’s heart lurched at her words. How did she ever land someone as beautiful and soft as Alexandria Woods? 

How did Lexa even exist? 

The breeze tossed Lexa’s hair, and she ran a hand through it, taking Clarke’s breath away. 

Her hair glinted under the sunlight, golden rays illuminating golden streaks in her brunette locks. Lexa glowed, her smile young and untainted by thoughts of stress, or worry. 

“I missed you.” Clarke gushed, pulling Lexa into a hug. “I know that doesn’t make sense because I’ve seen you, but I miss  _ you.  _ Stress-free, beautiful, amazing Lexa. The one with that confident smile and the witty banter that verges just...on the cusp of being offensive.” Clarke grinned at the memories her words were clearly evoking within Lexa, who smiled cheekily at the memories. “I want everyday with you to be like that.” Clarke decided. 

Lexa nodded slowly, kissing Clarke’s forehead. “We can do that.” 

“Good. Because that’s what we deserve.” Clarke offered, moving to the trunk. 

“What’re you looking for?” Lexa questioned curiously. 

“My jacket.” Clarke replied. “It’s a bit chilly with the breeze.” 

Lexa blinked, reacting suddenly, shucking hers off. “Clarke, take mine.” 

Clarke grinned, rather than resisting. She took the jacket, reached into the trunk, and pulled out her own hoodie. 

“A trade?” 

Lexa cocked a brow, smiling nonetheless. “And what would the point of that be?” 

“I like smelling like you.” Clarke replied, slipping into Lexa’s jacket. 

“Are you wondering why I brought us here?” Clarke questioned, watching Lexa wear the hoodie. 

“To watch the sunset?” Lexa asked hopefully. 

“Right.” Clarke nodded, linking her hand with Lexa’s. “I mean, I know it’s nothing special. Just an ocean sunset, right? But you make every little moment memorable, and I’d rather spend my time with you, doing things like this. I don’t really care about all the other things; whatever people say, whatever problems come our way.” 

Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat, glancing at Clarke. 

“Can we talk for a moment, Clarke?” 

“Aren’t we talking?” 

“I mean...I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.” Lexa began uneasily. 

Clarke smiled, glancing up at Lexa. “It’s okay, babe.” She coaxed. “I know I’m being confusing.” 

Lexa sighed in relief. “Clarke, it’s not that I’m not pleasantly surprised by your reaction, because I  _ am.  _ But… I’ve never seen this carefree side of you. It’s wonderful, but I’m afraid that this is some momentary reaction, and the shock will fade, and you’ll  _ hurt.  _ That tears me up, Clarke.” 

Clarke nodded, moving to sit on the hood of the car, leaning back against the windshield, as she gazed off into the horizon. She patted the seat beside her, and Lexa slid beside her, Clarke wrapping an arm around her. 

Lexa curled into her warmth almost instantly, and Clarke smiled at that. 

“I don’t know.” Clarke resumed with a sigh. “I don’t know if I snapped, or if I just had enough, or...if this new carefree phase is just that- a phase. But it feels good to try, Lex. It feels like that happy future you and I want is right within reach.” 

“I’m proud of you.” Lexa kissed her hair, burying her nose in Clarke’s gold locks. “This is an incredible step for you.” 

Clarke smiled. “I just want to enjoy being with you. And then we can worry about all the rest some other time.” 

“Alright.” Lexa replied, knowing to drop the subject. 

“You know, there are certain things I never thought I’d be doing, before I met you.” Clarke informed her thoughtfully, leaning her head against Lexa’s shoulder. 

“Like ditching school to go on an impromptu road trip?” Lexa prompted with a raised brow. 

“Well, yeah.” Clarke laughed. “But I meant something a little more mundane, like enjoying the sunset like this.” 

Lexa tilted her head like a confused puppy. “Why not?” 

Clarke shrugged. “You’re my first love.” She admitted with a somewhat shy smile. “I never had this with anyone before. And Finn…” 

Lexa scrunched up her nose in distaste at the mention of his name. 

“Well, I didn’t really think that happiness like this was possible.” Clarke finished, looking deep in thought. “I don’t know if it was the accident, or if it was just me. But you make all these normal pedestrian moments feel...special. I just want to share every moment with you, like this. I don’t know... do I sound crazy?” 

Lexa shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. Clarke’s words were so succinct and beautiful, they always expressed what she couldn’t, what she yearned to say but could only manage through touch, or kisses. 

“I feel exactly the same.” Lexa replied, glancing at Clarke for a moment, and then back to the sun, slowly lowering, setting the ocean before them ablaze. Orange rays bled into the blue depths, the sky turning pink around them. “And...I wanted to apologize, for not having been there...for you...this semester.” Lexa found the courage rooted in the words she’d been reciting in her mind, on the car ride over. 

“Lexa, you don’t have to apologize for-” 

“I do.” Lexa shook her head. 

“You were busy. You had games, and work. You were doing things that were important.” 

“But for the wrong reasons.” Lexa admitted, and Clarke paused, letting her talk. “They were important to me because...they were important to my parents. I thought that, maybe after all these years of growing up alone, I wouldn’t be tied to them. I thought I wouldn’t need their approval. But...here I am. Still,  _ still  _ killing myself to make them happy, and...I don’t even think they care, Clarke. I don’t think they noticed.” 

Clarke nodded, feeling for Lexa so much in that moment. 

“Lexa, they’re proud of you already.” She reminded softly. 

“They have a shit way of showing it.” Lexa replied sourly. “I know I sound spoiled, because...yes, they paid my way through college...or they would’ve, if I hadn’t gotten a scholarship. Yes, they paid for our... _ posh _ way of life. I know they do that because they love me, and they want to see me succeed but...would it kill them to  _ tell me,  _ once in awhile? The most recent time they told me they were proud of me was when they told me I didn’t get the job, and that was consolation, more than anything.” 

Clarke hummed sympathetically, kissing Lexa’s cheek. 

“I know it doesn’t count for much, but I’m  _ incredibly  _ proud of you.” Clarke told her firmly. 

Lexa’s frown blossomed into a smile at that. “It means  _ everything,  _ Clarke.” 

Clarke’s heart leapt in her chest, but she didn’t let it hinder her speech. “I see the way you love football, Lex. You dominate out there. It’s part of your identity. This work, at your parents’ business? It’s not the same. It doesn’t cause that twinkle in your eye, you don’t look forward to doing it, and I think you’re staying out of obligation. I know you were trying to balance both, because you want their approval, and you’re afraid because football can’t guarantee your success like the business can. But Lexa, you’re going to be  _ amazing.  _ I’m so lucky that I get to see it happen, firsthand. No one can make this decision for you, but if you want my advice? Go for it. Play football, focus on that only. You’ll be happiest, and that’s what matters.” 

Lexa watched Clarke with glossy eyes, blinking rapidly to keep her pooled tears at bay. 

“Thank you.” Lexa managed, barely a croak, as Clarke cupped her cheeks. 

“Always.” Clarke replied steadily, leaning forward to kiss Lexa once, chaste and comforting. “Now do you think we can stop being so serious? I miss the days when we’d banter and I’d call you Airbud.” 

Lexa snorted a messy laugh, nodding as they watched the sun slowly sink into the depths of the water, its rays reaching out for a final farewell as the sky began to dim, like a slowly suffocating candle. 

“I love you.” Lexa murmured affectionately. 

“I love you more.” Clarke quipped, taking in the scent of Lexa, mixing with the salty air. 

* * *

 

After a thorough makeout session in the post-sunset glow, Lexa had reluctantly slid off the hood of the car, taking Clarke with her. 

The two felt light, after their cathartic talks. Everything felt balanced and natural again, and they were content to just be with each other and simply giggle together like schoolgirls. 

Until, of course, Lexa pointed out that they needed a place to stay, for the evening, if they wanted to continue this little impromptu road trip of theirs. 

Lexa had offered to drive, giving Clarke a break, as she reclined into her seat, her left hand holding Lexa’s as they flew by on the highway. 

They filled the silence with music and laughter, little comments here and there, until Clarke finally turned down the stereo and muttered, “Lex!” 

Lexa blinked, glancing at her as she drove, a wry grin on her face. 

“Yes?” 

“You passed the motel!”

“...and?” 

“We have to sleep there.” Clarke replied, confusion tinting her tone. 

“No wife of mine will sleep in a motel like that.” Lexa declared airily. 

Clarke smiled at the “wife” part, and then parsed the rest of the sentence. “Wait, Lexa, where will we stay?” 

“The Four Seasons is just twenty mi-” 

“-Million dollars a night.” Clarke interjected, her jaw dropping. “You can’t possibly-” 

“I was going to say  _ minutes.  _ And yes, I  _ can. _ ” Lexa licked her lips. “We’re vacationing luxuriously. 

“Lexa, who has the budget-” 

“Clarke, for one evening...can you trust me? Don’t worry about anything.” Lexa promised.

Clarke had to swoon because Lexa had a certain way of being downright romantic, sweeping her off her feet and taking her to a hotel she’d likely never have stayed in otherwise. 

“I want to just…  _ enjoy  _ my time with you.” Lexa pressed. “You, me, a nice hot bath, a massage…” 

Clarke groaned audibly, and Lexa had her answer. 

“But...Lex.” Clarke sighed. “Reservations?” 

Lexa smirked. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, Clarke.” 

* * *

 

“Clarke?” Lexa called as she slid the keycard into their suite door, shutting it behind her. “So, I checked, and dinner can be sent up to…” Lexa went speechless as she saw Clarke emerge from the bedroom, wearing only a robe, without bothering to tie it up. 

“To….?” Clarke prompted, and Lexa blinked. 

“The...room.” Lexa answered, feeling terribly over-clothed in her jeans and sweater. “You look...breathtaking.” 

Clarke blushed heavily, looking bashful. “I’m wearing nothing.” She pointed out. 

Lexa smirked, taking a step forward. “I see that.” She purred, and earned herself a kiss, as Clarke’s arms went up to loop around her neck. 

“Dinner later.” Clarke whispered against her lips. “Bath now.” 

“Okay.” Lexa murmured right back. She nodded, mesmerized, allowing Clarke to slide off her sweater, and then her top, Clarke’s fingers hungrily grazing her abs. Reverently, Clarke knelt before Lexa, eliciting a soft gasp when she kissed Lexa’s bare abs. She was taking advantage of the rare opportunity to utterly and completely worship her girlfriend, all thoughts and concerns far behind her. 

Slowly, Clarke peeled the waistband of Lexa’s pants down, sliding them down muscled thighs. She pressed her lips to Lexa’s hips, kissing sweetly as Lexa stepped out of her pants, Clarke returning up to greet her with a kiss on the lips. 

Before Lexa could deepen it, Clarke pulled back slightly, eyes twinkling with adoration as she smiled, wide and beautiful. 

“What?” Lexa murmured, entranced. 

“I just...I  _ adore  _ you.” Clarke replied softly, thumb rubbing Lexa’s cheek. 

Lexa blushed, heat rising quickly to her cheeks, her heart swelling with love. 

Clarke took a second to study her girlfriend’s face. 

She was undoubtedly the most gorgeous woman in existence, that much she knew for sure. She took a moment to study Lexa’s almost nonexistent freckles, leaning forward to kiss them each, particularly the single one on her upper lip. 

Lexa whined softly, and Clarke’s heart lurched at the sound. 

“I don’t know if I tell you this enough, Lexa, but thank you.” 

“What for?” Lexa let out a breathless little laugh as Clarke laced their fingers together. 

“Just being you. Being my best friend. Everything.” Clarke replied, squeezing Lexa’s hand softly, watching Lexa’s awed expression. 

“Of course.” Lexa whispered, pulling Clarke closer to her, wrapping her arms around her. “I love you so much, Clarke.” 

“I love you, too.” Clarke replied, heart warmed by Lexa’s presence. She didn’t know why, but her soul  _ missed  _ Lexa. She wanted nothing more than to smother her with the affection she felt, to compensate for months of struggle and frustration. “C’mon. I drew a bath.” 

Lexa wore a playful smirk. “Any excuse to see my abs, huh Griffin?” 

Clarke laughed. “Is that such a crime? Half of twitter wants to see your abs, too.” 

Lexa studied Clarke’s expression for discomfort upon mentioning the social media giant, but she looked entirely playful. 

“Hmm.” Lexa pretended to look thoughtful. “I suppose you  _ are  _ special.” 

Clarke grinned wickedly. “This is such a far cry from high school Lexa, who’d walk around with her shirt off.” 

Lexa’s lips twitched, threatening to break out into a full smile. “I wanted to catch your attention.” 

“You most certainly did.” Clarke replied coolly, dropping her robe to the floor. She grinned once more at Lexa’s dumbstruck appearance. “Well, what are you waiting for? Strip, baby.” 

* * *

 

Jets softly whirred under the lowest setting, frothy bubbles forming at the top of the bath. Scents of vanilla coconut arose, calming, cleansing. Lexa had made a frowning comment about the lack of candles to “set the mood” and Clarke had laughed, stealing a kiss from her lips afterwards. 

The two had settled back against the tub, Clarke leaning against the back, with Lexa leaning against her. Lexa had made an indignant noise when Clarke suggested she be the big “bath spoon”, but quickly quieted when Clarke began massaging the stiff parts of her neck and back. 

“Are you homesick?” Clarke asked, breaking the soft silence that had settled over them, accompanying the warm feeling of the hot water, relaxing every muscle in their bodies. 

“Me?” Lexa questioned. “I’m at home. I’m with you.” She shrugged, and Clarke kissed her shoulder in response. 

“That’s sweet.” Clarke murmured. “But I mean, being on the road, or even at college...it doesn’t make you miss home sometimes? I know we have the apartment, but…” 

“Clarke.” Lexa sighed. “Think about it. When you get homesick, do you miss Arkadia, really? Or just the familiarity of home, and your family?” 

“...The second one.” Clarke admitted. 

Lexa nodded. “And that’s normal. But I wasn’t...I don’t really have many of those memories to look back on. Ever since I was little, I was distant from my parents, groomed for working abroad and going into business. I never felt at home. You are the closest thing I’ve ever had to stability...and I know that sounds spoiled, because I wanted for nothing, and I never had to worry about where my next meal came from, but-” 

“Lexa, I don’t think you sound spoiled. Stability isn’t always financial. Sometimes it’s knowing who’s going to greet you when you get home after school or work.” She offered softly. “It’s making sure your feelings are accounted for and understood. I get that.” 

Lexa took a moment, and then returned to the conversation with a breathy sigh. “And  _ that  _ is my biggest fear, Clarke. That one day, I’ll do something wrong, and you’ll tire of me...and I’ll lose my home.” She sounded sheepish, ashamed. 

Clarke paused, inhaling softly, her heart aching for Lexa. She had forgotten, somewhere along the way, with all the tweets and the arguments, that Lexa was insecure, too. Clarke’s strange behavior likely wasn’t doing her any favors, what with the constant “we need to talk” moments that Clarke had initiated. 

“Lex?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for wha-” 

“That I haven’t been...cognizant, of that.” Clarke murmured, securing her arms around Lexa’s waist, pulling her back against her own body. Lexa leaned into her so easily, so effortlessly, craving the warmth, the affection. “I want you to depend on me, issues and all. I’m never going to do that to you.” 

“I know.” Lexa murmured back. “I believe you.” 

“Good.” Clarke kissed the base of her neck, her fingers itching to run along the baby hairs there, to bury themselves in Lexa’s locks. “I’m glad we’re talking about this. I feel like it’s long overdue.” 

“It is.” Lexa agreed, feeling relief flood her chest. “Speaking of things that are long overdue…What do you say we try to break that headboard on the bed again, like prom?” 

Clarke laughed, resting her head on Lexa’s shoulder. 

“As long as your mom won’t get the bill this time.” 

 

* * *

 

“Lexa,  _ fuck-” _

“That’s it, love. Come for me-” 

“LEXA-”

“God, you’re sexy when you- is that the phone, again?” 

“Lexa please, baby-” 

“Hold that thought.” 

“What?!”

“Let me get this. Hello? Yes, this is she. I’m sorry, you have an issue with...what? Our volume? I was told the walls are doubly soundproofed. Oh! They are? We’re  _ that  _ loud? Ah...Noted. Now that I have you on the phone, though, could you see about sending up some more towels-we used a few too many and-... I think he hung up on me!” 

“ _ Alexandria Anastasia Woods,  _ Get back here right  _ now.”  _

“Your wish is my command.” 

“...Lex?” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“We broke the bed again.” 

* * *

 

The next day, they were back on the road again, exploring to their heart’s desire, until the familiar signals of hunger came along. 

And they’d worked up quite an appetite. 

Clarke pulled over at a small diner eerily reminiscent of the Dropship, sporting a bright neon sign flickering in the night sky, colors bright and harsh against the dark backdrop. Clarke shivered when she stepped out of the car, and Lexa effortlessly draped her old letterman over Clarke’s shoulder without missing a beat, always seeming to know what Clarke needed without asking. 

Clarke smiled as Lexa put her arm around her, enveloped in Lexa’s familiar warmth, surrounded by her familiar scent, as they walked into the diner, old-fashioned and simply decorated. Clarke was hit with a wave of nostalgia as they entered, memories of Wells and Murphy and Octavia overwhelming her, the smell of grease wafting through the air, and she grinned at the memory of Lexa asking for  _ sparkling water _ , of all things. 

“This place reminds me of the Dropship,” Lexa murmured, after a lone waitress directed them to a table, and Clarke nodded. 

“I was just thinking that,” she agreed, shaking her head, “god, it seems like so long ago. You came there on dates with  _ Costia _ .” Lexa startled, as though she’d almost forgotten about the relationship she’d had with her ex-girlfriend. Even though they’d parted fondly, Lexa was so consumed with Clarke that every other relationship she’d had simply ceased to matter. 

“I had my favorite waitress there to serve me, though,” Lexa fired back, and Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“I should’ve given you to Octavia the second you asked me if we had sparkling water. Seriously, who asks for  _ sparkling water _ in a diner? I know you were raised in the lap of luxury, but you don’t need to ruin all things good and wholesome with your seltzer water.”

Lexa hummed at Clarke’s ribbings good naturedly as the waitress approached them once more. 

“Can I get you two started on anything to drink?”

“A lemonade, please,” Clarke started, looking to Lexa, whose eyes had a mischievous little glint to them. 

“Do you have sparkling water, by chance?” The waitress looked obviously thrown by the request, and Clarke resisted the urge to groan, or perhaps shove Lexa good-naturedly. “If not, just regular water will be fine.”

“I’ll check for you, ma’am,” she said, before scurrying off.

“You are absolutely incorrigible, Lexa Woods,” Clarke sighed, and Lexa just grinned at her, stealing her hand to press a quick kiss to her palm. 

“You love me anyways, though.”

“I don’t know why, though, you drink  _ sparkling water _ .”

They sat together, looking over the menus, legs pressed together, Lexa’s letterman a comfortable weight over Clarke’s shoulders, and it felt so much like high school that Clarke had to blink every few seconds to remind herself that it wasn’t. 

After they ordered, lemonade and sparkling water in hand, they settled into easy conversation, comfortable and at ease, like the early days of their relationship, when there was no pressure against them and they could just exist, together, at whatever pace they wished. 

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we didn’t end up dating?” Clarke asked, and Lexa wrinkled her nose at the very thought of it. 

“I try not to,” she answered honestly, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Clarke.” Clarke’s heart swelled in the way it always did when Lexa said things like that, because Lexa was always glaringly obvious when it came to how much she loved Clarke, how much she treasured her, and oftentimes Clarke wondered what she’d done to deserve such treatment, such affection. 

“Humor me for a second, though,” Clarke continued, as their waitress placed trays of fries and burgers down in front of them, “say, if you’d never broken up with Costia, if Crewe hadn’t paired us together for that english project. Where would we be?”

“Well,” Lexa began, “I’d like to think I would’ve gotten my head out of my ass eventually and befriended you anyways, though I’m not sure I would’ve been able to handle any of the other delinquents with the exception of Murphy in high school if I wasn’t dating you.”

“I probably would’ve ended up dating Luna.” Lexa’s eyes narrowed and she waved a french fry at Clarke threateningly. 

“Don’t even joke about that,” she huffed, “you can’t end up with Rivers, not even in a hypothetical world where we aren’t in love. It wounds my ego.” 

“Fine, Wells, then, our dads always thought we’d end up together, and I always thought he’d make a good husband. He makes really good pies. Like, insanely good.” Lexa nodded, appeased. She liked Wells, he was bright and funny and easy-going and a much better candidate as Clarke’s potential alternate-universe love interest than  _ Luna Rivers _ . 

“We’d probably both still end up at Polis,” Clarke continued, “unless your parents convinced you to take some fancy overseas position.”

“They were really interested in putting more focus on their European branches,” Lexa agreed, “and they talked about moving Aden and I out there with them instead of leaving us here.”

“I think we still would have ended up together, though, even if we didn’t start dating in high school,” Lexa said after taking a large bite out of her burger, chewing thoughtfully, “there’s no way we wouldn’t have ended up together.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, for starters, even when I was still dating Costia I was madly in love with you,” Lexa told her, and Clarke couldn’t fight the blush that rose on her cheeks, because Lexa still had that effect on her, even now, after all the time they’d spent together, “and she’d begun to notice, which was part of the reason we broke up. We just weren’t the right fit for one another, Costia and I.”

She reached for Clarke’s hand, linking their fingers together, and Clarke smiled at her, tentatively, as though they were just discovering their relationship, still unsure where they stood with one another, wide-eyed and filled with so much love. 

“I would have doubtlessly regaled my parents with stories about the stubborn, headstrong girl from my english class who thought I was a complete ass, and my mother, being the romantic she is, would have insisted I reach out to reconcile, and somewhere along the way we would realize that we were meant to be and we wasted so much time maintaining an antagonistic relationship when we could have been entertaining the idea of an illicit affair.”

Lexa grinned lecherously and wiggled her eyebrows at that part, and Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“You think so?”

“I don’t think there’s a single universe that exists where we don’t end up together,” Lexa told her, honestly, “I think a love like ours is one that transcends the threads of the space-time continuum.”

Clarke smiled and squeezed Lexa’s hand tighter, Lexa’s old letterman a familiar, comforting weight over her shoulders, and outside the old neon lights of the diner flickered underneath the stars. 

* * *

  
  


Clarke sighed, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically to the music, unmoving, completely stalled in traffic, and sighed heavily. Besides her, Lexa laughed quietly, scrolling through her phone, other hand moving to trace patterns on Clarke’s thigh comfortingly. 

“Bored?” Lexa teased, and Clarke glared at her playfully. 

“I hate city traffic,” Clarke scowled, glaring down at the masses of cars in front of them as though the intensity of her eyes would somehow make them dissipate into nothingness, “why did we decide on college in California again?”

“Because it was  _ artsy _ ,” Lexa drawled, and Clarke rolled her eyes, “to be fair, you could have picked New York. That would’ve been worse. Much, much worse.”

Music only provided so much entertainment, so after a while Lexa pulled up Buzzfeed quizzes, verbally relaying the questions to Clarke who refused to take her hands off the wheel to peruse her phone, even if they were stopped. She had every reason to be cautious, after all. 

“Oh, this one is a  _ how well do you know your best friend  _ quiz,” Lexa informed her, and Clarke smiled at the thought, because Lexa was her best friend―though Raven and Octavia would loudly argue this point if she ever announced it in their presence―her girlfriend, her soulmate, and they were taking Buzzfeed quizzes in traffic and it was weirdly perfect and Clarke loved her, so, so much.

“Well?” Clarke asked after a moment, Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “how well do you know me?”

“Too well,” Lexa responded sagely, holding up the phone so that Clarke could see the results, “Buzzfeed says we should be dating, because apparently regular best friends don’t have sex more than four times a week on average.”

Clarke’s mouth split into a wide grin and then she and Lexa were laughing, Clarke clutching at the wheel to steady herself, because it was a little ridiculous to think about, especially with the internet mentality of  _ just gals being pals _ . 

“This one says  _ build a chipotle burrito and we’ll tell you what Hogwarts house you are _ , I bet I get Slytherin.”

“Babe you’re a total Hufflepuff. Loyalty and hard-working to a T.”

“For the sake of our relationship,” Lexa told her seriously, shaking her head, “I’m going to pretend that those words never left your mouth.” Clarke simply rolled her eyes and then turned her focus back to the road, where the cars were now crawling forward at a snail’s pace, but any forward motion was progress, in her opinion. 

“Oh my god  _ Lexa!” _ Lexa’s attention snapped towards her girlfriend immediately at her alarmed little yell, dropping her phone in her lap. 

“What? What is it?”

“Lexa, baby, is that a cat?”

Sure enough, terrified and rooted to the ground at the barrier of the HOV lane was a tiny little kitten, much too small to be on its own, and much too small to have gotten there by accident. Clarke’s heart broke at the implication that someone had dumped it there, knowing that it wouldn’t stand a chance. 

Lexa’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape, and she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“Lexa, what are you doing?” Lexa reached for her door, and despite the fact that the traffic was still moving slowly, so slowly, Clarke reached out and grabbed for her, pulling her back down to her seat. 

“Lexa,  _ no _ .” Lexa looked at her, took in the panic in Clarke’s blue eyes, and remembered. 

“Hey,” she reassured, softly, taking Clarke’s hand into her own, taking note of the way Clarke’s breath quickened, eyes wide, “the traffic is at a virtual standstill, and they’re all gonna see me if I go out there.” Clarke nodded as Lexa talked her through it logically, though her mind wandered back to another time, another accident, searing pain and the memory of her father, forever lost to her. 

“It’s okay, Clarke. Besides, I’ve got killer reflexes,” she grinned at her widely, and then looked towards the kitten, who was looking around helplessly as though trying to figure out what to do with itself, a stark white against the asphalt, though the stain of pollution was quickly adding grey to its fur, “and we can’t just  _ leave  _ it.” Her eyes were wide, and Clarke’s heart was racing, but she knew that Lexa was set on this, so she nodded. 

“Please be safe.”

Lexa opened her car door and bolted, and dozens of cars honked at her as she made her way through them, people rolling down their windows to yell and call her crazy, but Lexa ignored them all. Clarke just clutched at the steering wheel, knuckles whitening at the severity of her grip, as she focused on evening her breathing, because Lexa was fine, she could see her, and everything was okay. 

Her heart didn’t stop beating, though, until Lexa was back in the car, the kitten tucked into the crook of her arm, grinning like a madwoman. Clarke started driving, then, because the cars behind her were honking at her, and she smiled, brilliantly, because her girlfriend was insane. 

“Look at him,” Lexa cooed, motioning at the little bundle of white-stained-grey curled up in her lap and meowing loudly, still traumatized at the events that had just transpired, and Clarke didn’t blame him, “he’s so cute. So tiny.” The kitten blinked up at her and sneezed, or as close to a sneeze as a kitten could get, shivering, and Lexa let out an inhuman noise from the back of her throat, keening instinctively, and Clarke couldn’t resist the  _ aww  _ that escaped her, either. 

“Oh, he’s cold!” Lexa fretted, and before Clarke could even suggest anything, she shucked off her own jacket and arranged it in her lap like a nest, letting the kitten curl up in it. “Oh my god we have to show Aden, he’ll be so excited.” 

Clarke reached a hand over to scratch behind the drowsy kitten’s ears, and her heart flooded with warmth when she felt the familiar vibrations of purring beneath her fingers, comforting and so  _ strong  _ for such a tiny body. Lexa looked at him proudly, beaming. 

“He has good taste.”

“ _ He  _ needs a name,” Clarke pointed out, and Lexa’s face lit up, snapping a picture of the little bundle of fur to post to the internet for suggestions, and within the half hour, Goose Woods was born, courtesy of Aden, who figured it best they keep with their tradition of naming pets after different types of animals.

“Goose?” Clarke quipped with a look. 

Lexa smirked. “Can we keep him, Clarke? Please?” 

“What am I, your mom?” Clarke scoffed. “I want him just as badly as you do.”

“He can be our baby.” Lexa quipped. “It’s good practice.” 

“Thinking about kids already? What about the apartments, Lex? Will they allow it?” 

Lexa nodded, smiling excitedly like a child, and Clarke couldn’t help her grin. 

“You’re cute when you’re excited.” 

“Maybe he’s just what we need, Clarke! I mean, why else would he have been there at that exact moment?” 

“You’re being unusually optimistic.” Clarke noted, reaching over to scratch Goose, and he purred softly, kneading Lexa’s lap. 

“I’m trying out your newly adopted way of dealing with life.” Lexa countered. “Plus.” She added with a sniff. “We deserve to be happy.” 

“Okay.” Clarke murmured. “What are we going to do about him now? We’re on the road.” 

“We can stop by the store for supplies.” Lexa replied, reaching to map it on her phone. “Food, a bed, everything he needs. We can take him to the vet as soon as we get back.”

“Alright.” Clarke nodded. “Sounds good. We can handle that.” 

As Clarke drove, Lexa’s hand drew patterns on her thigh, and Goose purred underneath the warmth of her fingers; there was peace on the way home. 

* * *

“Room for one more on that bed?” Clarke asked, taking in the perfection that was Lexa sprawled out on their bed back at the apartment, her hair in a messy bun, cooing over the fluffy kitten in her arms.

Since they’d arrived earlier that evening, Goose had taken quickly to their apartment. 

Clarke swooned a little more as she approached.

“Absolutely, love.” Lexa drawled, making room for Clarke to slide into her arms, Goose nestled between them sleepily. 

“This would be a perfect calendar picture.” Clarke thought aloud. “Maybe you should take off your shirt, though. That never hurts.” 

Lexa snorted, burying her face in Clarke’s shoulder. “You’ve got interesting tastes.” 

“What? My ultra-hot athlete girl holding a kitten and showing me her abs? Who  _ wouldn’t  _ like that?” 

“Touche.” Lexa replied with a smirk. 

“Don’t get cocky.” Clarke murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips as she pulled out her phone. “And smile.” 

Rather than smiling, Lexa pressed a kiss to Clarke’s cheek, drawing a genuine surprised grin from Clarke for the photo. 

Clarke moved to type something, and Lexa looked suddenly interested. 

“You’re sending that to the group chat?” Lexa queried. 

“...No.” Clarke admitted. “Twitter and Insta, actually. Is that...okay?” 

Lexa smiled reassuringly. “Of course, it’s cute. But I was just wondering…” 

“Why I’m even going back on social media?” Clarke finished. 

“Not to sound discouraging.” Lexa corrected quickly. 

“I know. And the truth is...I don’t really know. I want to learn how to go on living my life, I guess. Hate, no hate, it doesn’t matter. Why should I care? I’ll post the things I want.” 

“Your confidence is  _ sexy _ .” Lexa purred and Clarke grinned. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“That’s not a no.” 

“It’s  _ definitely  _ encouragement. Keep flirting with me.” Clarke replied, her fingers typing out a caption for the photo. 

Lexa laughed, stroking her chin, as if deep in thought. “So…” She teased. “Are you single?” 

Clarke scoffed, posting the picture and setting her phone aside. “ _ Are you single?  _ Really? That’s the classic Woods charm?” 

Lexa smiled sheepishly, watching as Goose got up to stretch, before climbing right over Clarke’s lap and over to her phone, inspecting it curiously. 

“Try again.” Clarke prompted. 

“Okay…” Lexa drawled. She reached for her phone, turning on the front facing camera, so that she and Clarke were in the frame. “What do you think of this couple?” 

Clarke smirked. “Cuter.” She praised, moving to straddle Lexa’s hips. 

“Oh! I know!” Lexa feigned excitement. “Will you hold this for me?” She slipped her hand into Clarke’s, and Clarke’s grin was infectious. 

“It’s a wonder my panties didn’t hit the floor from the moment you opened your mouth.” Clarke teased, leaning down to kiss her. 

“I can be smooth when I want to be.” Lexa huffed against her lips, her hands grabbing at Clarke’s hips, slowly rocking her against her body. 

Clarke felt a hot flush of arousal, nodding her head in agreement. 

“You certainly-” 

Clarke was cut off by the sound of her cell phone, vibrating like crazy. 

Goose startled, leaping back onto the safety of Lexa’s stomach, and Clarke barely caught her phone from falling off the nightstand. 

“Oomph.” Lexa wheezed, one hand moving off Clarke’s hip to console the ball of fluff on her stomach. “What’s happening?” 

“My social media is...going crazy.” Clarke murmured, eyes scanning the messages. 

“And? What’s the verdict?” Lexa asked, with a tone that implied that she would kill anyone who dared speak against her. 

“It’s...not bad.” Clarke spoke slowly, a smile spreading on her lips. “It’s...good. They’re being nice.” 

Lexa grinned. “Really?” She whispered. “Clarke, that’s-” 

“Oh, wait. I have a voicemail. Let’s just see-” 

“CLARKE ABIGAIL GRIFFIN, THIS IS RAVEN REYES, YOUR  _ EX  _ BEST FRIEND. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHY ARE YOU AND LEXA POSTING PICS OF YOU AT THE BEACH? WHY DO YOU HAVE A KITTEN? CAN I SEE IT? YOU KNOW WHAT? I’M COMING OVER. ANYA, GET YOUR COAT-” 

“That was...interesting.” Lexa murmured with an amused look. 

“Yeah and Octavia just left one.” Clarke announced, as she pressed play again. 

“CLARKE! LINC AND I ARE IN THE TRUCK RIGHT NOW. THAT KITTEN IS ADORABLE. ALSO, WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN? MAKE ROOM FOR US!”

Clarke was laughing, feeling lighter than she had in quite some time. 

“Let me guess.” Lexa groaned. “The Delinkru are coming over.” 

“Sorry, baby.” Clarke grinned, kissing her once, apologetically. “It’s time we filled them in, anyway.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially the penultimate chapter. After this will be a finale of sorts, and then an epilogue. Sam is busy, so I will be writing those alone! If you didn't know- I've made the decision to stop posting on AO3 after this story is over. Instead I will likely put up my own site to archive the stories, to navigate, all that. You can check out our tumblr (clexa-hsau) for all the information. Nothing will change, it will all be free, and the stories on AO3 will remain here. 
> 
> As far as this universe goes: it's just getting started to be quite honest. The next chapter of their saga will be their young adult lives, and far less angsty. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading and all the support, it means the world.


	9. Finale PT. 1

The “delinkru” poured into the apartment in what could only be described as a stampede. They all seemed to arrive at the same time, which, (much to Lexa’s dread), filled the apart up with considerable noise. 

Just moments prior, she and Clarke had happily been making out on the couch. 

Now? 

She was making  _ beverages.  _

They came in as noisily as expected, each with their own little greeting, (which mostly consisted of suffocating both her and Clarke in death gripped hugs)). 

_ “Hey, Woods, Griff. Good to see you both.”  _

_ “Griffster! Move! Where’s the kitten?”  _

_ “Hey Clarke, Lex- OH MY GOD IT’S FLUFFY AS FUCK.”  _

_ “And dude, I was so high when I thought- oh wait. What? We’re already here? Hey Clarke!”  _

_ “Hey, Lexie. Congrats on your final championship run.”  _

_ “Where’s the bathroom?!”  _

And so it went. 

Lincoln and Octavia, Monty and Jasper, Raven and Anya, Bellamy and Murphy, all in town. 

And no, it wasn’t simply an impromptu trip. 

The truth of the matter? 

Lexa had called for them. 

She’d called for them to come, to help aid her in a plan so sinister, only they would be able to help her exact it. 

All for the sake of the loving blonde who was currently kissing their new kitten, cuddled in Raven’s arms, enjoying the attention. 

Anything for her. 

Because, yes, Lexa had a hunch. 

That no good waste of space Ilian  _ had  _ to have played some greater role in Clarke’s misfortune. It was ironic. Trashing her to the point of hating herself and for what? Because he thought she was so attractive that he wanted to date her, and was offended when she rejected him. 

Lexa thought he’d gone to great lengths to mess with Clarke, after that. 

And  _ nobody  _ fucked with her girlfriend, her love, her soulmate. 

No one. 

Not as long as her name was Alexandria Anastasia Woods, and she had all the strings in the world to pull.

“Hey.” A loving voice rasped in her ear, as arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Hey yourself.” Lexa replied gently, stirring the pitcher of iced tea. 

“Sorry everyone dropped in like this. I know you hate having guests over.” Clarke murmured apologetically, kissing Lexa’s neck soothingly. 

Lexa smiled, turning to face Clarke. “That’s alright. It’s not your fault they’re here. And I don’t mind, Clarke. I just act grumpy because Murphy’s around and it rubs off on me.” 

Clarke grinned. “You’re like a cat. You like cuddles and solitude.” 

Lexa chuckled, cupping Clarke’s cheeks. “You’re not wrong about that.” 

“But still...is it my fault because I posted those pictures on social media?” Clarke lamented softly. “I mean, they all showed up at once.” 

“Hey.” Lexa nudged her. “Maybe, for once, it’s the forces of the universe doing you a favor. They decided that you deserve something good, and they sent all our friends your way at once. Maybe things are turning around.” 

Clarke frowned momentarily, tsking, and Lexa wondered if she’d said something wrong. 

“Not for once.” Clarke mumbled. 

“What?” 

“You said, maybe it’s the forces of the universe doing me a favor, for once. It’s not, though. I’ve already gotten to be the luckiest person in the world.” Clarke spoke softly, gaze locking with Lexa’s. “I already got you. Everything else is just a secondary bonus.” 

Lexa blinked, lips slightly parted in awe, eyes glistening with a wet sheen of unshed tears. 

“I love you.” Clarke murmured as she pressed her lips chastely to Lexa’s. 

“I love you more.” Lexa whispered back messily, pulling Clarke closer. 

Their moment, however, was quickly interrupted by Raven, who stood about three feet away, joined in silence by the rest of the delinkru, who were now staring. 

“Was that the gayest thing you guys have ever seen...or…” Raven drawled. 

Lexa’s subsequent skyward eyeroll had Clarke giggling into the crook of her neck. 

* * *

 

When everyone had settled around the living room, with the couples taking up the chairs, and Murphy, Monty, Bellamy and Jasper on the floors, the true reason for their visit came to the forefront. 

Clarke was curled up in Lexa’s embrace, Goose curled up between them, dozing off happily. 

Clarke cleared her throat, gathering everyone’s attention. 

“So, guys…” She drawled, and everyone quieted their loud banter, clearly interested in whatever she had to say. “I’m guessing, by now, you’ve all seen the...pictures.” She finished awkwardly. 

To her surprise, however, their response wasn’t the least bit awkward. 

Guarded, of course, by Lexa’s vigilant gaze, daring anyone to say anything out of line. 

“Yeah.” Octavia was the first to speak. “How do you feel?” 

Clarke took a moment, feeling everyone’s gazes upon her. “To be honest…” She sighed. “Violated, and a bit gross. But other than that...fine. I already came to terms with myself, and I’m all the better for it.” 

“Hell yeah.” Bellamy offered gently, raising his glass. 

“Why aren’t we drinking, again?” Raven quipped. 

“Because it’s noon.” Anya snorted. 

“It’s four o’clock somewhere.” 

“You sound like Kane.” Clarke grimaced. “Anyway, I just wanted to get that out there. That it happened, and it’s okay.” 

“Any idea who did it?” Monty asked politely, hugging his knees to his chest. 

Clarke bit her lip. “Not really. Lexa has...a  _ lot  _ of ardent admirers.” 

Anya rolled her eyes. “Idiots, the lot of them. Can’t they see her for the nerd she is?” 

Lexa shot daggers at her, and then promptly bent over to coo and kiss Goose’s head when he stirred momentarily, further demonstrating her point. 

“Clarke, this can’t go unpunished.” Raven made a fist and dropped it against her other flat palm, like a gavel. “This needs justice.” 

Clarke blinked. “I don’t really know, guys. I mean, I’m mad as hell, but...how would I even go about something like that?” 

Murphy smirked. “What do you think goggles and giggles are here for?” He jerked his head at Monty and Jasper. 

“Giggles?” Monty rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve heard you on the phone with Miller.” Murphy grinned. 

“I’ve heard you on the phone with Emori. If that’s the standard, we should call you  _ babycakes.  _ Isn’t that right-” 

“Enough.” Lexa interjected regally, before Murphy could strangle Monty for revealing his secret pet name. “This is about Clarke.” 

Clarke stopped snickering, catching her breath. “Well, still.” She sighed. “How could this be done?” 

Lincoln lit up. “You need a list of probable perps.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Narrow your scope!” 

“Perps?” Anya snorted. “What are you, a cop?” 

“He’s been watching CSI. And just...a lot of TV.” Octavia grinned, patting his thigh. 

“I think that might be my calling...somehow.” Lincoln mumbled to himself. “But anyway, a list of people most likely to be responsible.” 

“But…” Bellamy paused. “Aren’t these kinds of attacks random? Since Lexa has so many fans?” 

Anya shook her head. “Seems like a personal thing to do. And not selling them to outlets? Just spreading them for free? Total personal vendetta.” 

Clarke sighed. “Who could I have possibly pissed off  _ that  _ much?” 

Lexa growled, low and feral. “That fuckboy Ilian.” 

Clarke arched a brow. “You really think-” 

“I  _ know _ , baby.” Lexa replied, and Clarke found herself weirdly turned on by Lexa’s vicious side as much as she shouldn’t have been, in that moment. 

“Who else?” Lincoln prodded. “If cheap tv has taught me anything, it’s never the person you most suspect.” 

“...Alie?” Raven piped up. “You were always telling us how Alie has been a mega-bitch this year. Maybe she did it to throw Lexa off her game?” 

Lexa blinked. “That’s...not bad.” She admitted. She was practically salivating at the idea of proving Alie wrong, even after she’d lost to her. 

Some wounds took a while to heal, it seemed. 

“Who else?” Jasper questioned. “So far we have muscle art guy, uptight work lady-” 

“Rivers.” Lexa growled. 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Luna? Why? Because I hung out with her like three times?” 

Lexa’s inner peacock was something of a hilarious spectacle. “Because she’s jealous. And she never sticks around whenever I show up. That’s suspicious.” 

“She’s intimidated by you.” Clarke pointed out. “You look at her the way a territorial wolf looks at another wolf threatening the pack.” 

Lexa shrugged. “See for yourself.” 

“Wait, wait.” Raven interjected. “So, you have a list. Then what? You guys gonna kidnap these people and throw bags over their heads till they confess?” 

“Don’t be so crude, Reyes.” Monty scoffed. “Jas and I are gonna hack their phones and laptops.” 

“You what?!” Clarke shot up, startling Goose from his seat. 

Lexa put a calming hand on Clarke’s arm, and she seemed to settle, momentarily. 

The rest of the group looked unsurprised. 

“...How else would we know for certain?” Monty pressed. 

“Guys, this whole thing was a violation of  _ my  _ privacy. Now you want to go and hack  _ other people’s  _ stuff in  _ hopes  _ of finding something?” 

“...She has a point.” Lincoln, ever the morally solid one, answered. 

“Ilian doesn’t deserve privacy.” Lexa sounded determined. “Just try him first. If it’s not him, we can move on. If it is…he and I will have a little talk.” 

Clarke scowled. “You can’t beat him up. Much as I want you to.” 

“His entitlement is disgusting.” Murphy finally chimed in. “Clarke, take it from me.” 

Clarke fell silent, remembering Murphy’s  _ incident  _ with Ontari in high school, the one that sent him spiraling into therapy, the one that partially ruined his life. 

“His behavior deserves a little punishment, that’s all.” Murphy sniffed. “I’m not an advocate for violence-” 

“You threatened to give me a, and I quote,  _ wedgie so hard that I’d be able to taste it, _ if I didn’t get out of your way.” Jasper whined. 

“People change.” Murphy grumbled with a little smirk. 

“That was on the way in through the door.” Jasper pointed out. 

“-right but that’s friendly pestering.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“Shut up, Jordan. This is serious. This kid has no boundaries. He’s cunning even- he’s been after Clarke all year, with clever little comments to get her guard down. He utilized her love and ambition for art to get her in a position close to him. He abused his power to keep her after hours. Just trust me, a little metaphorical  _ wedgie  _ would do him some good.” 

“A wedgie?” Monty sighed. “I go to years of computer classes, coding bootcamps, I studied programming for-” 

“Your point?” Raven grumbled, bored with his accolades. 

Monty scowled. “My point is, what do you want me to do? Hack his phone? Leak his icloud?” 

“Set his apartment on fire?” Raven grinned, licking her teeth like a hungry wolf. 

“No, no, and  _ hell no _ .” Clarke sighed. “If we’re going to teach him a lesson, it needs to be for the good of actually teaching him something. And  _ not  _ getting our asses arrested in the process.” 

The group nodded, and Clarke smiled, satisfied. “That being said...it’s good to have you all back. I missed you guys.” 

Suddenly, Clarke and Lexa found themselves enveloped by their friends in a crushing group hug, with Lexa grumbling and Clarke grinning as she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. 

“I love you guys.” Clarke murmured, and they all hummed and murmured their enthusiastic agreement. “I wish you guys could stay. Class starts in two days, and-” 

“For you.” Octavia interrupted. 

“What?” 

“You guys just got off break...We all just started.” Octavia smirked. “Can’t get rid of us that easy.” 

“Seriously?!” Clarke gasped in delight. “Bell?” 

“I’m off work. Took the time to come and visit. Plus, L.A. apparently has...fun stuff to do? Who'd've guessed it.” 

“Oh yeah, Woods, get in here.” Jasper sidled over to Lexa, slinging an arm around her shoulder, leaning in. “Monty, can you snap a pic? I want to tell people I know a famous person.” 

Lexa mumbled something under her breath, but smiled for the photo. 

“Lexa, Lexa.” Jasper glanced at the photo. “That’s good. Real good. But this time, can you maybe look at me like you look at Clarke? I’m trying to weave this story that you’re into me-” 

“Remove yourself or I will remove you.” Lexa answered nonchalantly, and Jasper balked, backing up. 

Clarke watched her girlfriend with a grin, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. 

“See? Like that.” Jasper grumbled. “You give her that look all the time.” 

“Jas….That’s my girlfriend. Of course she does.” 

Anya looked bored. “You really want all of us camping out in your living room for a week?” 

Lexa sighed, digging into her pocket. They all watched her curiously, eyes widening when she pulled out a black titanium looking card from her wallet. 

“Holy mother of-” 

“Is that a-” 

Anya was the only one who looked unimpressed, likely used to growing up with all the perks that the illustrious Woods family had to offer. 

“It’s a centurion card.” Anya clarified. “For the most overrated trust fund babies and business snobs.” 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Anya.” She handed the card to Anya, then, noting Clarke’s wide gaze. 

“Go to the hotel a couple of blocks from here. Get a couple of rooms. Get dinner.” 

“Are you serious, Woods?!” Raven grinned. 

Lexa nodded, surprised when Raven leaned forward and planted one on her, practically doing a happy dance in excitement. 

Clarke was laughing, watching as Lexa stared, stunned. 

“This is my way of saying thank you.” Lexa clarified. 

“Thank you for what-” Clarke never finished, as Raven’s exuberance continued. 

“I’ve never even been to a hotel nicer than the time Monty and I won the science fair and got to go to D.C, and-” 

Anya leaned towards Lexa, clapping her on the shoulder. “You sure?” She murmured, while Raven still had the group’s attention. “Not some vendetta against Alex and Ana, is it?” 

Lexa tsked. “They owe me. Worse comes to worst, I’ll pay them back. Go, have fun with your girlfriend.” 

Anya smirked. “I’ll say thank you and act like you didn’t go to such great lengths to get me out of the house.”

They all thanked Lexa profusely, and she waved them off, waiting until they shut the door behind themselves, with plans to meet the next day to officially start what they’d dubbed: Operation: Revenge. (Lincoln was a bit too excited about his cop dramas, but no one had the heart to tell him it was lame). 

The moment they cleared out, Clarke wheeled around on Lexa, eyes narrow. 

“Alexandria Anastasia Woods, just how rich are you?” Clarke pressed. 

Lexa laughed, glad that Clarke hadn’t noticed that she’d set this up. 

“Rich enough to buy you and I an intimate dinner for two.” She murmured, pulling Clarke closer. “Is that okay?” 

Clarke grinned. “You know I like you for you, right?” 

Lexa smirked. “Of course you do. I’m hot and rich, and I’m a total catch.” She drawled, earning a smack on the arm. 

“Really.” Clarke waved her off. “Nice bonuses, but...Not at all why I adore you with every fibre of my being.” 

Lexa swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. 

“I adore your heart, Woods. You have the most beautiful, loving heart I’ve ever known.” Clarke continued, leaning in to capture her lips. “I’m pretty sure you put all this together, just to make me happy.” Clarke wound her arms around Lexa’s neck. 

“Was it that obvious?” Lexa sighed in defeat. “I didn’t want you to think about it, I wanted it to seem natural.” 

Clarke smiled, drawing out Lexa’s lips with her own. “I love you more than I have ever, or will ever, love anything or anyone.” She reminded, lips tingling at the brush of Lexa’s. She leaned down, unbuttoning the top of Lexa’s shirt, and Lexa gasped slightly at the cooler air on her exposed chest. Clarke brought her lips right above Lexa’s heart, and planted a soft, delicate kiss there, glancing up at Lexa’s eyes. 

“I.” She punctuated the word with another kiss to the tender area, and she could feel Lexa’s heart. “ love.” Another kiss. “You.” One more. “Alexandria.” 

When Clarke glanced back up, Lexa’s lower lip was wobbling, and her watery eyes began to shed the little diamond-like tears they’d collected. 

“Don’t cry.” Clarke whispered, trailing kisses up to her lips. “Don’t cry, baby.” 

Lexa was regarding Clarke as if she’d seen an angel in the flesh, coming down from the heavens just to greet her, only her. 

“I….” Lexa began, but Clarke read her mind, it seemed. 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your job to protect me, Lex.” 

“It-” 

“It’s your job to love me, to be my best friend. And damn if you aren’t the best at those two things.” Clarke pressed, slowly pulling Lexa’s plump bottom lip between her own. 

Lexa sighed softly, leaning into Clarke, giving herself to her fully. Heart, mind, soul, body, everything belonged to Clarke Abigail Griffin. 

Clarke seemed to know this, taking the honor with as much tenderness as she could have mustered, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, pulling her flush against her. 

“I love you.” It was a faint whisper against Clarke’s lips, swollen from their soft exchange of kisses, feather light, yet somehow bearing the weight of the world within them. “I...I…” 

“Shh.” Clarke cooed, understanding just what Lexa was trying to express, though the words wouldn’t manifest themselves. “I know.” 

Lexa nodded, hoping that Clarke truly did know that she was trying to express everything that had been building within her for the past few months. 

She let it unravel in their kisses, their touches, their soft sighs, as Clarke pushed her to the bedroom, the moments becoming a blur in her eyes. 

“Is this okay?” Clarke murmured, tugging at Lexa’s shirt. 

Lexa nodded, almost eagerly, all too enticed by the woman before her. 

It felt like their first time, all the way back in Arkadia. 

Clarke hovered over Lexa, nudging the part of her thighs with her knee. When Lexa gasped slightly, she gave way for Clarke’s knee, sliding to nestle itself in the part of her thighs, while Clarke hovered over her fully. 

Confident Clarke was quite possibly the most beautiful version of her girlfriend that Lexa had ever seen. 

Something about seeing her take the lead, give direction, without hesitation in her voice...it was beautiful. 

Clarke leaned back down to recapture her lips, and Lexa arched up to meet her, looping her arms around Clarke’s neck more securely. 

They kissed with all the passion they could muster, though Clarke had a way of keeping it soft and tender, her hands in the bed around either side of Lexa. 

Slowly, Clarke peeled away, eliciting a whine from Lexa’s throat. 

Clarke nuzzled Lexa’s throat affectionately, chuckling when she heard Lexa’s whine. 

The vibrations put Lexa on edge. 

She would occasionally glance up at Clarke, eyes slightly lidded now more than they were wide before, and Clarke would give her a warm and tender smile, which Lexa slowly found herself returning. 

God, she was so in love. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not her job, not football, not their friends, their family, nothing. 

Clarke, Clarke, Clarke. 

Clarke was occupied with peeling Lexa’s shirt off, revealing the soft skin of Lexa’s chest. She littered Lexa’s collarbone with kisses, taking her time, making sure to worship every inch of her soulmate. 

Clarke’s fingers worked deftly at Lexa’s brastrap, and Lexa couldn’t remember when it came off. She felt chills rack her body as Clarke’s fingers grazed over her breasts, softly, lovingly, just a hint of  _ need  _ underneath all her actions. 

Lexa was a little like a rose, Clarke thought, in that moment. She had so many layers, petaling outward, each one a different part of her. Clarke wanted to pay attention to each and every petal, every layer that made up Alexandria Anastasia Woods, to sate every need she would feel.

It was a fair comparison, she realized, but Lexa was far more beautiful than the cliche rose. 

Clarke set to work, slowly but lovingly dotting little kisses around a rosy nipple, noticing the way the bud was already stiff, practically begging for her attention. With her hand, Clarke made sure to tend to the other, kneading softly, a promise of more to come. 

Slowly, she dipped her head down, tracing the stiff peak with the tip of her tongue, at first, hiding a grin when Lexa whined, trying to pull Clarke down needily. 

Clarke took her time, enveloping her lips around before tugging teasingly, enjoying the way Lexa’s entire body went rigid with pleasure. 

Every lick, every kiss, every tug between her lips set Lexa further on edge. She could tell her girlfriend was wound up from the way her abs twitched and tensed, and Clarke felt a familiar clench and heat pool in her own stomach. 

Clarke had switched to Lexa’s other breast, lazily mouthing and mostly grinning at Lexa’s whines and tugs of frustration. 

Clarke took it upon herself to drag a nail down the center line of Lexa’s abs while she kept her mouth on her breast, watching as she left goosebumps in her wake. While her finger moved, Lexa’s abs twitched, hard and packed beneath Clarke’s fingers, leaving her particularly  _ wet.  _

“More, Clarke.” Lexa finally mumbled, and Clarke kissed her chest one last time, nodding. 

“Alright, baby.” 

Clarke began to descend on Lexa, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. She kissed every inch of those abs she adored so much, noting how antsy Lexa was becoming. 

It turned her on, watching her confident, almost arrogant, headstrong girlfriend just  _ writhe  _ beneath her, begging and whimpering for more. She loved being able to get the most vulnerable side of Lexa. 

She loved pampering the girl, watching her close her eyes, head tilted back, mouth open, her entire body vibrating. 

She knew Lexa would do the same, and for once, she wanted to take care of her fully. 

Clarke nosed the skin right above Lexa’s waistband. She went so far as to swipe her tongue along the edge, smirking when Lexa’s hips bucked up in anticipation. 

Clarke hooked her fingers around Lexa’s waistband and tugged softly, leaning back far enough to remove the pants off Lexa altogether. 

She was hit with a fresh wave of Lexa’s scent, her arousal that had been building filled the air, and Clarke felt the scent cause another clenching feeling between her legs. 

“You’ve been so patient.” Clarke praised, her voice raspy with arousal, as she eyed Lexa’s soaked panties. “You waited so long.” 

Lexa gave a groan in response. 

Clarke ducked her head down and suckled a kiss into the flesh of Lexa’s inner thigh. She could feel  _ heat  _ radiating from Lexa’s core, and she felt herself go a little weak in the knees. 

She made the great sexy goddess that was Lexa Woods feel that. She was the reason why Lexa was absolutely  _ soaking  _ right now. 

The only reason why. 

She couldn’t lie, it was a hell of confidence booster. 

“God, Lexa.” Clarke whispered reverently into the corner of her upper thigh. “I can feel how hot you are. I can   _ smell  _ you.” She inched closer, pressing her lips to Lexa’s mound, covered by the thin sheet of her panties. 

Without much warning, she gave a broad swipe of her tongue, flattening it and dragging it against Lexa’s clothed folds, feeling a twitch and a fresh gush of wetness as she did so. 

Clarke hummed in pleasure at the taste coating her tongue, and Lexa let out a sexy moan of, “Clarke….” ending in a sort of gasp. 

“You always taste sweet.” Clarke hummed, mostly to herself. “I love you.” She kept close, dragging her tongue back up again, following the tip of her nose, as it barely scraped the edge of her panties. 

“Clarke.” Lexa gasped and growled at once, and god, it was a sexy noise. 

“I know…” Clarke drawled, moving to tug Lexa’s panties up, watching it pull against her folds and the bud of her clit, the feeling sending Lexa into another moan. 

“You’re teasing.” Lexa mumbled, though pleasure was discernible in every bit of her tone. 

“I’m not.” Clarke tsked. “I’m savoring, baby.” She dug her fingers into Lexa’s thighs, rubbing softly. 

Lexa let out another soft whine, and Clarke’s heart stuttered. 

Anything, for her. 

Clarke slowly peeled her panties away, eyes widening slightly at the sight of Lexa, bare and absolutely dripping, waiting for her. 

Lexa already had her hands tangled in Clarke’s hair, guiding her down. 

“No.” Clarke murmured apologetically. “Not like this. I need you to get up for a second, baby.” 

Lexa looked dumbstruck. “I…” 

“I know, I know. Trust me, Lex.” Clarke murmured once more, leaning back. 

Lexa was barely able to stand, her legs shaking, her core dripping, her breasts pert, every inch of her calling to Clarke like a siren. 

Clarke’s eyes roamed and found one of her most cherished qualities, Lexa’s ass. 

Perfect, rounded, firm, and so completely ignored, until now. 

“God.” Clarke groaned, as the two stood on their knees, the bed rocking. Clarke’s lips found their way to Lexa’s earlobe, and she nibbled on it softly before whispering, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Lexa.” 

Lexa shivered in response, and Clarke’s fingers drifted to her ass, kneading softly. 

Lexa gasped, arching back into Clarke, begging for attention. 

Clarke drew her nails down Lexa’s back, scratching lightly, sinking her fingers into the roundness of Lexa’s ass, her lips following suit. She pressed a wet kiss to the small of her back, letting her tongue follow as she traced the curvature of Lexa’s ass. 

“Clarke!” Lexa yelped, breathy, needy, a warning. 

That was it. 

Clarke nodded, though Lexa couldn’t quite see. 

“Okay, baby.” She commanded softly. “Come and sit on my face, okay?” 

Lexa stilled. “Clarke?” She questioned softly. “I-” 

“We’ve done this before, you won’t hurt me. Relax.” Clarke cooed, moving into position by the bed frame. 

She licked her lips, eyeing her girlfriend’s immaculate body up and down. 

God, she was the luckiest woman in the universe. 

“C’mere.” She offered, and Lexa approached slowly, knees on either side of Clarke, hands on the bed frame. She hovered her center over Clarke’s mouth. 

Clarke reached up, softly groping Lexa’s breasts before sliding her hands down her body, coming to grab a firm hold of Lexa’s ass. 

Clarke hummed in absolute delight as Lexa lowered herself onto her lips, and the vibrations (specifically the knowledge of  _ why  _ Clarke was so turned on), had Lexa gasping and leaning on her hands for support, her grip already tight on the frame. 

“Clarke.” Lexa gasped, and so it began. 

Clarke had primed her with only a few kitten licks before hungrily swiping in full strokes, coating every inch of her tongue with Lexa’s slick. She lapped at Lexa’s folds eagerly, hungrily, humming all the while at the taste, as if she’d been gifted with a fine champagne. 

She pulled away only once, to utter, “Ride me baby. Ride my tongue.” 

Lexa barely could understand, pure arousal and affection had taken over her mind. Slowly though, she arched forward, and began rolling her hips, guided by Clarke’s hands on her ass. 

Clarke groaned into Lexa’s wet heat, her tongue managing to slip into her entrance, just deep enough to brush against her front wall, at the angle Lexa was riding her. 

_ Lexa was riding her.  _

The thought alone had Clarke fighting off the urge of her impending orgasm. 

Lexa’s ass swaying in the air, Lexa’s hips rolling as she rocked and humped and drove herself deeper onto Clarke’s tongue. 

It was something otherworldly, just to think about. 

Lexa was moaning obscenely, her thighs quivering and shaking, as she gasped and whined at every movement of Clarke’s hot wet mouth. 

Clarke seemed to feel Lexa’s movements, the way the hot coil in her stomach was slowly unwinding, her gasps getting louder, more frantic, desperate, even. 

Clarke’s tongue slipped out of her, only to stroke directly at her clit. 

Lexa stilled and jerked, and then Clarke was sucking on her clit, laving her tongue against the stiffened, overly sensitive bud. 

Suddenly, Lexa was gasping, shaking, cumming into Clarke’s mouth uncontrollably. 

“Clarke!” Her tone was breathy, barely there. “Fuck! Clarke!” A litany of curses followed as she rocked against Clarke’s mouth, milking her orgasm for all it was worth, as Clarke lapped at her, quite pleased with herself. 

“I love you.” Lexa gasped, absolutely exhausted. “I love you, Clarke.” 

She felt Clarke press a loving kiss to her inner thigh in response. 

* * *

 

“Up, love.” Lexa cooed into Clarke’s ear, their bodies pressed together underneath the sheets. “It’s monday morning. School time.” 

Clarke groaned lazily in response, slinging an arm around Lexa, holding her tightly. 

“No.” 

Lexa chuckled, kissing the exposed sliver of her neck. 

“I could buy us an island and we could just quit school and live there?” Lexa teased. 

“Now you’re talkin’, Woods.” Clarke mumbled amusedly, burying her face deeper into Lexa’s neck. 

“How do you feel?” Lexa asked softly. 

Clarke could hear the unspoken part of that sentence. 

_ With all that happened right before break, do you feel weird, going back?  _

“I’m alright.” Clarke promised, breathing in Lexa’s relaxing scent. 

“Would a hot shower help?” Lexa offered enticingly. 

Clarke smiled against her skin, and though her face was hidden, it made Lexa grin too. 

“....Will you carry me?” Clarke grumbled. “Too tired to walk.” 

Lexa chuckled. “I won’t have you walk a single step today if that’s what you’d like.” 

Clarke made a little noise of adoration in the back of her throat. 

“How are you so romantic?” She sighed blissfully. 

“Me? Look who’s talking.” Lexa whispered. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk, after last night.” 

At that, Clarke finally lifted her head, smirking at Lexa. 

“That  _ was  _ pretty good, wasn’t it?” 

Lexa grinned. “I don’t think I’ve been happier in my life.” 

“It’s weird.” Clarke noted aloud. “It’s like we’re in the honeymoon phase of our relationship…” 

“Even though we’re over a year into it?” Lexa finished, kissing Clarke’s head before sliding off the bed to stretch. 

“Yeah.” Clarke sighed in wonder, gripping the sheets. “A year. Wow.” 

“I know, it flew by.” Lexa agreed in amazement. 

“...Except these last few months. They sucked.” Clarke offered with a grumble. 

Lexa frowned. “I’m-” 

“Lexa if you apologize, I’ll kill you.” 

Lexa paused, blinking. 

“Remember how shy we were around each other?” Clarke dazed. “Our first date? Valentine’s Day? Our  _ first time _ ? Your pickup lines? Meeting up at Octavia’s party? The Costia/Luna jealousy scandal?” 

Lexa was smiling fondly while Clarke recited it all. 

“I hope this year didn’t kill it for you.” Lexa offered softly. 

Clarke sat up slowly, the sheet falling from her bare body, revealing hickeys and lovingly bruised skin beneath the places where Lexa’s lips had touched the evening prior. 

Lexa swallowed hard, daring her eyes not to float away to Clarke’s chest. 

“Lexa, listen to me. We had our first hardships this year. The first of many, probably, if you and I go into our chosen career paths.” Clarke sat up on her knees, going to rest her hands on Lexa’s shoulders. “We’re stronger for it. We’re happier for it. We learned that we seriously have to shut everything else out and honestly  _ talk  _ to each other, without fear of rejection. I mean, look, it sent us back into our usual honeymoon phase. I don’t mind these challenges, with you. In fact, I look  _ forward  _ to them. So don’t feel bad, alright? What happened, happened.” 

Lexa nodded, sliding her arms under Clarke’s legs, scooping her up bridal style. 

“I’m ready to just finally  _ enjoy  _ college. I’m dating the star quarterback, I demand some cliche perks.” 

“I’ll see what I can arrange.” Lexa chuckled, stealing a kiss when Clarke glanced away. 

* * *

 

The day went  _ swimmingly,  _ to Lexa and Clarke’s surprise. 

It all started with their first shared course, economics. A shared general ed class they’d planned on taking together had turned out to be one of the best decisions they’d made so far. 

The two were gazed at, and Clarke realized, the stares and whispers weren’t all bad. 

In fact, some of them were...gazes of admiration. 

She and Lexa walked hand in hand, casually grabbing seats in the back of the lecture hall. Clarke couldn’t find any room to complain. 

Lexa’s arm was slung around her, she was comfortable for once. It didn’t really matter, anymore. She’d reached a point where she was fully comfortable with herself, and  _ confident.  _

She was actually able to enjoy herself, she found, when she realized that only her opinion mattered. 

She found herself stupidly grinning during the lecture, playing with Lexa’s hand, blushing profusely when Lexa kissed her cheek in response. 

If the rest of the semester went like this? 

Clarke would actually look forward to coming to school. 

* * *

 

With the new semester offering only art classes without Ilian, Clarke was feeling particularly happy. She and Lexa split for a few hours, tackled their classes separately. 

In that time, just about everyone stared at her, and a few people came up to her with some choice messages. 

Messages that touched her. 

The girl in that sorority who’d sat in the back of her psych class last semester approached her when she was walking to class, without Lexa. 

“Hey, Clarke!” She called and Clarke paused in her steps, turning around at the mostly unfamiliar voice. 

Clarke regarded her for a moment, trying not to stereotype her. It was a little hard, given her pink Alpha-whatever the fuck sorority tank, and her mini skirt that framed legs that only could’ve been built by years of yoga. 

But Clarke was a changed person. 

She knew far better than to ever judge anyone for something so menial, and she was rewarded by the universe for it, it seemed. 

“Hey!” The girl tried to catch up in her wedged heels, and Clarke smiled instinctively. “Hi.” The girl breathed, bubbly. “Sorry, I’m Ashley. I sat by you in-” 

“Psych.” Clarke finished with a nod. “I remember. What’s up?” 

“Well…” Ashley began with a flip of her blonde hair. “I actually wanted to ask you something about social media. Cause, y’know, that whole thing that happened this week….if that’s okay!” She hurried to rectify. 

Clarke looked unbothered. “Sure.” She offered coolly. “What’s up?” 

“Well, first, I just wanted to say...what you posted after was really brave.” Ashley offered. “There can be so many shitty people, it’s really cool that you didn’t let them hold you back, you know?” 

Clarke felt a little stir of warmth, in her chest. “Thanks.” She smiled softly. 

“And, my question was actually…” She bit her lip. “Well, my ex boyfriend did the same thing...but, a little...more revealing.” She offered quietly, shamefully, casting her glance downwards. 

“Oh.” Clarke whispered, feeling suddenly connected to the stranger. “I’m so sorry.” She tilted her head, unsure of what to say. 

“That’s alright. I mean, I shouldn’t be ashamed, right?” She sighed. “I just...I saw yours on such a large scale, because of Lexa, and I thought...if Clarke Griffin handles it like this, why can’t I?” 

“...You know my name?” Clarke sputtered, blush clinging to her cheeks. 

“Well, yeah.” Ashley paused, looking confused. “You’re, like, a hero to a lot of us. Most people kind of disappear or shy away, but you didn’t.” 

“I couldn’t.” Clarke murmured. “Not while dating Lexa.” 

“You didn’t let it define you.” Ashley continued with a nod. “And it happens to so many people, every day. So I just wanted to say thanks.” 

“Yeah.” Clarke offered with a genuine smile. “Sure. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

For the rest of that day, Clarke was feeling better than she truly had about the issue in days. 

* * *

 

“Ra-lly! Ra-lly! Ra-lly!” Jasper cheered as he walked behind the group on their way to the stadium, for spring fair to celebrate the end of the football season, and fundraise for the beginning of spring semester sports. 

Lexa was to be honored with an award, there, and according to Ilian’s social media, he’d be in attendance as well. 

The perfect place to enact a quick snatch of his phone for the plan. 

Clarke’s stomach was churning slightly, and she wasn’t sure why. It had something to do with Ilian’s presence. It all felt very sinister. 

She didn’t know why she felt this way, after all, Ilian wasn’t guilty. 

Not yet, anyway. 

But Lexa had a strong hunch. 

And yes, while Lexa was jealous of him (a little), she knew better than to lead Clarke on some goose chase without resolution. 

Clarke trusted her judgement. 

If Lexa thought Ilian was behind the hack, then Clarke believed it. 

...Which meant she needed to be cautious until Monty and Jas could hack into his phone, and do what they did best. 

“Oh my god there are news trucks here!” Octavia gushed. 

Clarke nodded. “The football team is kind of a hot topic. It’s just local cable news though, nothing big.” 

Lexa sniffed. “I’ll be on ESPN before you can say  _ Woods _ .” 

“You’re such an arrogant prick.” Anya snorted, shaking her head. “Nothing’s changed.” 

“Griffin, what do you see in her?” Lincoln teased, hand in hand with Octavia. 

Clarke shrugged with a smirk. “It’s kind of hot when the arrogance is working in your favor.” 

Clarke kissed Lexa’s shoulder to let her know she was only teasing, and Lexa smiled. 

They made their way in a sort of drove, pushing past people on their way through main campus. 

“Does anyone remember the plan?” Monty sighed. 

“How hard can it be?” Bellamy snorted. “Get in, have Clarke and Murphy distract him with O and Rae, Linc and I will steal his phone, Monty and Jas will do their thing, we’ll act like he dropped his phone and give it back, and we finish by watching the ceremony.” 

“...Where is Anya in all of this?” Lexa pointed out. 

“I’m not one for...shenanigans.” Anya snorted. “I’ll be hanging around. Call me if some throats need to be slit.” 

“...I like your style.” Murphy grunted. “Go team.” 

As they approached the stadium, Lexa pulled Clarke aside, away from the rowdy delinquents. 

“You’re anxious.” Lexa noted softly. 

“He just makes me uneasy.” Clarke waved her off. “Knowing that he saw those...I don’t know. It’s just not something I like thinking about.” 

Lexa nodded, gaze narrowing. “We’ll know for certain in just a little over an hour. And if it is him, Clarke, you have my word, I will fucking  _ gut  _ him for even  _ thinking  _ he could do that to you. Do you understand?” 

Clarke nodded, blinking rapidly, lashes fluttering, as Lexa cupped her cheeks. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Clarke reminded, leaning into Lexa’s touch. “I have the whole family here as backup.” 

“It makes me mad.” Lexa whispered tiredly. 

“Hey, remember what happened with Dax?” Clarke cocked a brow. “Not again, okay?” 

Lexa licked her lips. “Right.” She sighed. “Yeah.” 

“Trust me on this, Woods. I’m not as helpless as you think.” 

“I don’t think you’re helpless, I just-” Lexa protested. 

“I know. You want to protect me, like I wanna protect you from your parents.” Clarke murmured. 

Lexa smiled wistfully. “Any big revenge plans against them I should know about?” 

Clarke tsked. “Just maybe having the most adorable kids ever and not letting them visit sometimes.” She teased. 

“I like it.” Lexa leaned forward, capturing Clarke’s lips with her own. 

Clarke kissed her, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. 

“Love you. Congratulations on the award.” Clarke drawled, leaning back. 

“Love you more. Congratulations on the revenge.” 

* * *

 

Lexa had gone back with all the other student athletes to be honored, while the rest of the group set about their plan. 

Music was playing, the school band was marching out on the field, and all kinds of students and their families came out to be a part of the fun. 

Free food stands had gathered masses of people, along with those gathered on the bleachers. It would be a little harder to find Ilian than Clarke first thought. 

“Guys, I think we’re going to need to- Seriously, Bell? Is that a corndog?” 

“They’re  _ good _ .” Bellamy gushed. 

“Eh, the burgers from the In n Out truck? Way better.” Raven countered, said burger in hand. 

“Not as good as the pie from-” 

“If you all don’t shut up and get your asses into gear, I’ll shove your food up your asses.” Anya jammed her hands into her pockets. 

Murphy smirked, about to open his mouth, when Raven glared at him playfully. 

“She’s taken.” 

“Yeah, like I was ever gonna-” 

“Can you guys  _ please  _ focus?” Clarke begged.

“I’m with you, Clarke.” Lincoln put a hand on her shoulder, and Clarke smiled gratefully. 

Through Lexa, she’d befriended Lincoln and Anya, and they were by far two people she’d never want to lose. 

“According to his snap story, he’s working at the charity art booth.” Monty supplied over a mouthful of apple pie. 

“Okay, that’s...there.” Octavia pointed with a keen gaze. “Is he the hot one with the muscles?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, got him. So now what?” 

“We stick to the plan.” 

“Right. And phase one of that is….?” 

“Jasper, seriously? We  _ just  _ detailed everything.” 

“I work better when I’m stoned.” 

“You’re stoned?!” 

“Look, guys, listen.” 

“....Okay? What?” 

“What?” 

“Oh for the love of-” Monty rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go get in position behind the tent.” 

“Okay, we’ll be lingering close by.” Bellamy and Lincoln nodded, going to the next booth over. 

All that remained was Clarke, Raven, Octavia, and Murphy, with Anya pretending to be admiring a piece of art on a stand. 

Ilian’s eyes lit up when he watched Clarke approach. Clarke remembered her previous rejections, and wasn’t too sure about his motives. She regarded him with a fake smile. 

“Ilian, hey  _ boss _ .” She waved, emphasizing the word. 

“Clarke!” Ilian clapped his hands together, smiling his usual smile. A mixture of something predatory and inviting, all at once. “And Murphy. Hey guys, how was your break?” 

Clarke milked her chance. “It was  _ amazing. _ ” She grinned. “Lexa took me on the most romantic spontaneous trip!” 

Ilian had a look of surprise flicker over his expression, before he schooled it. “Oh? That’s amazing? What about you, bud?” 

“I drank beer and took pride in the fact that I’m not a shitty person.” Murphy drawled. “Or, at least as shitty as I  _ could  _ be.  _ Bud.”  _ Murphy wore a shit eating smirk, and Ilian faltered. 

“That’s uh...that’s cool, man.” 

Octavia seemed to realize Murphy’s little stunt had them losing Ilian, so she quickly jumped to action. 

“Hey. Ilian, right? I’m Octavia!” She giggled in a false bubbly tone. “I’m Clarke and Murphy’s friend!”

“Hey, Octavia.” Ilian sounded distracted. “Pleasure. I’m their art TA.” 

“And I’m Raven Reyes. I like blowing things….up.” 

Raven watched Anya roll her eyes to high heaven at her lame pickup line and she held back a snicker. 

Slowly but surely, Bellamy and Lincoln were edging closer, eyeing his phone which of course, sat in his back pocket. 

It would have to be well timed, and done by someone with quick hands. 

“Clarke.” Ilian spoke. “Who is  _ that _ ?” 

Clarke followed his gaze, and her eyes fell on Anya, who wanted no involvement with anything. 

“Her? I don’t know her.” Clarke tried lamely. 

Ilian nodded. “Oh, I better get back to work, then.” 

He moved to turn around, and Bellamy and Lincoln both froze. 

“Wait!” Clarke laughed, grabbing his wrist. “I’m just kidding!” She lured him back around. 

“...So you do know her?” Ilian wore a little smirk. 

Clarke swallowed the bile in her throat. “Yep. That’s Anya! Anya, don’t be shy! Come here!” 

Anya blinked, like a deer caught in headlights, and approached, exchanging a quick glance with Raven. 

“Anya.” Ilian began. “Sorry if I’m being forward, but I have to say. You are one of the most  _ beautiful  _ women I’ve ever seen.” 

Anya balked, and in seconds, Murphy and Octavia were snickering like schoolchildren. 

Raven watched with a fire Clarke hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Lincoln nodded to Bellamy, and they made their move. 

Suddenly, Bellamy was walking funny, stumbling into Ilian, (a little harder than Clarke expected, not to say she wasn’t satisfied, of course), and Ilian went right into Anya, who looked more than exasperated at the role she was forced to play. 

Ilian turned around to glare at Bellamy, who had slipped the phone into his own pocket, stumbling like a drunkard. 

“What the hell, bro?” Ilian stood at his full height, jaw tensing. 

“Aw…. ‘m sorry.” Bellamy put all of his theatre skills to use, trying to put a slur on his words. “My bad…...Go Panth...ers! M’ gonna be sick.” 

Lincoln stepped forward, looking terribly worried. “I’m so sorry!” He offered in his usual polite tone. “He pregamed a little too hard, y’know? Come on, man. Let’s get you to the bathroom, ASAP.” 

Ilian nodded, looking like he accepted their excuse. 

It was a college fair, after all. 

Nearly everyone was inebriated anyway. 

“So…” Ilian drawled. “Sorry about that.” 

Anya took a moment, schooling her expression, because she looked like she wanted to stab him.

“It’s okay!” She chirped, and it sounded so unnatural that the entire group paused to glance at her. 

Except Ilian, who read her signs as flirting. 

Clarke was eyeing Bellamy, who’d tossed the phone to Monty and Jasper, who’d been waiting patiently behind the tent. 

They set about working, while Bellamy and Lincoln shuffled away. 

“So, Anya….” Ilian drawled. “You a student here?” 

Anya blinked. 

_ Fuck no, moron.  _

“...Mhmm.” Anya replied, biting her lip. 

Ilian smirked. “How come I’ve never seen you before?” 

Anya glanced at Clarke helplessly, and Clarke shrugged in response. 

Anya could easily have given him random answers, but she knew she had to keep his interests, long enough to keep him from checking his phone. 

“I’m...on the other side of campus.” She tried, hoping it wasn’t a total lie. 

“Yeah? What’s your major?” 

Anya licked her lips. She couldn’t say politics and leadership, the truth, as that would bore him too much. 

She went with something that she  _ hoped  _ would interest him. 

“Dance.” She offered lamely. 

Ilian grinned, clearly pleased and little more turned on, while Raven glared. 

“Tick tock, Idiots.” Raven mouthed at Monty and Jasper, who were murmuring to each other with stoic expressions. 

“What kind of dancing do you do?” Ilian leaned in a little, completely ignoring the other three. 

“Uh...lots.” 

“Like what?” 

“....Hip hop. Ballet…..Pole.” 

“Pole dancing? I didn’t know they taught that here.” 

“Good for the upper body strength.” 

“Oh. Cool. You think, uh...you think I could see you some time?” Ilian licked his lips. 

Clarke wanted to puke. 

He was such a typical asshole. 

“...Sure.” Anya replied, looking as disgusted as she felt. 

“Cool. Let me get your number-” 

“No!” Anya snapped, and he paused, looking confused. 

“Don’t.” Anya talked him down, and he slowly dropped his hands, looking confused. “ _ You  _ give me  _ your  _ number.” She explained. “I like to be in control of my relationships.” She added, trying to sound convincing. 

Ilian smirked, eyes widening. “Nice.” He murmured. 

Anya moved to open the app, going to add a contact. 

“That’s 310- 555…” He went to list his number, and Anya busied herself by tapping in the numbers, trying to be as convincing as possible. 

“Okay.” Anya nodded. “Thanks.” She watched as Monty and Jasper nodded frantically, and then shut the phone. 

“Give it a test call.” Ilian pressed. 

“Sorry?” Anya blinked. 

“To make sure you got it right.” Ilian reached blindly for his phone in his back pocket. “I’ll hear it ring and-” 

Monty and Jasper launched the phone to Raven, who caught it, dropping it with a dull thud behind Ilian’s feet. 

“Did you drop that?” She asked, faking concern. 

“Oh, yeah!” He nodded. “That’s mine, thanks! I wonder how it feel without me noticing.” 

“You probably talk too loudly to hear anything.” Raven mumbled, deadpan, and then turned on her heel. 

“Well, we better go. See you at the gala on saturday!” Clarke reminded hastily. “The one where Dante will be making an appearance.” 

“Okay.” Ilian nodded, turning back to Anya, only to find she was gone. 

“Anya?” 

He had no date, and no chance. 

* * *

 

“Guys!” Clarke enthused as they all met back at the entrance, where they’d set their rendezvous point. “That was amazing! Anya, you were brilliant.” 

Anya surprised Clarke by giving her a little smile. “It’s what family does.” She offered, and Clarke pulled her into a hug, surprised yet again to find Anya hugging her back. 

“We won’t let anyone hurt you and live to tell about it.” Anya promised softly, and Clarke felt tears sting in her eyes a little. 

“What about me?” Bellamy enthused. “Meryl Streep would be proud.” 

Murphy made a face of disgust. “Don’t  _ ever  _ compare yourself to her again.” He defended quietly. 

“Guys, the answers!” Octavia roused them, leaning back against Lincoln. 

“Nerds, you took forever, put my  _ relationship  _ on the line…” Raven drawled teasingly. “So. Whose ass are we kicking?” 

Monty and Jasper glanced at each other. 

“It was him.” They said in unison. 

Clarke took a second, nodding. She had left her phone out in the studio too many times to count. It all made sense. 

“Sorry I’m late.” She heard her favorite voice sound off from behind her, and Lexa was there, arms instinctively wrapping around Clarke. “Is everything alright? Was it Ilian?” 

“Yeah.” Clarke nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

Lexa’s jaw set, her eyes narrowed, and Clarke saw the physical embodiment of the commander. 

“That son a bitch.” 

“Okay, so...now what?” 

“Now, we get him back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's been a ride. I'm writing these last two on my own, so bear with me! Thanks as always for reading, and the love and support <3


	10. Finale pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale to the college installment of this series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for coming along for the ride! Before I get flooded with the question, "Is this the end?" Nope, as stated before, if you haven't been following the clexa-hsau blog on tumblr, you should! This is the end of the college installment of the series. The next will be tackling their young adult/professional lives, and I don't know if it will be posted here, so please follow the tumblr for updates! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lexa held the bouquet of flowers behind her back, knocking on the apartment door with a few swings of her free hand. 

She took a breath in the pause while someone shuffled on the other side of the door to open in it. 

This apartment was interesting for her. 

It was first and foremost, her shared home with Clarke. 

But it held many important memories for her, mostly of their first year of college together, now coming to a close. 

She remembered how thrilled Clarke was, when she first opened the door to find Lexa waiting for her, on the other side. 

Lexa smiled simply in memory of Clarke’s grin, and swore to herself that whatever it took, she was going to make Clarke feel like that every day for the rest of their lives. 

She found that this year had mostly been comprised of self-discovery, and soul searching. While that was all well and good, one thing remained an ever constant presence in her life: Clarke. 

Clarke Abigail Griffin, her girlfriend, her chosen life partner, her best friend. 

They were going to stand the test of time, of stress, of peer pressures, of work, money, and all the little obstacles that ate away at other relationships. 

This year had only made Lexa more certain, and with recent developments and Ilian’s impending doom? 

It was looking to be quite the finale to a year’s worth of enduring. 

So the flowers behind her back were sort of a celebratory gesture. 

The door swung open, and Abby Griffin was leaning against the doorway. 

“Hi honey.” She gushed, ever warm and loving, just as Clarke was. 

Lexa smiled as Abby enveloped her in a tight hug, closing her eyes and gently rocking Lexa back and forth. 

“Hi, Abby.” Lexa murmured. “Great to see you.” 

“I know, I missed you two.” Abby sighed, leaning back. “How’ve you been, honey? God, I don’t know if it’s possible, but I think you put on more muscle since Christmas break.” 

Lexa blushed slightly, and Abby glanced at her flowers with a little motherly smirk. 

“Big plans, Woods?” She teased. 

Lexa smiled, straightening up. “I’m asking Clarke on a date.” She clarified, and Abby’s heart melted. 

“That is  _ so  _ sweet. You still do that? With flowers? No wonder she’s crazy about you.” Abby chuckled.

Lexa grinned. “It’s a surprise.” 

“Clarke, honey. There’s someone here to see you!” Abby called, leaning back. 

“Coming!” Clarke called back, likely from the bedroom. 

“How long will you be staying?” Lexa asked politely. 

“The conference is over by the end of the week. But don’t worry, I’ll be in a hotel.” Abby winked. 

Lexa blushed. “You’re more than welcome to-” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Abby laughed. “Sorry to open your own door on you, by the way.” 

Lexa smiled genuinely. “It’s alright. We missed you.” 

Abby sighed and kissed Lexa’s head once more. “I’ll be moving down soon, I think.” 

“Mom?” Clarke questioned. “I didn’t expect-” 

“Lexa Woods is here to ask you out on a date!” Abby teased, as if it were their first date all over again. 

Clarke feigned a gasp. “ _ The  _ Lexa Woods?” She mocked, coming around the corner. 

Lexa rolled her eyes playfully, and Clarke practically danced into her arms. 

“Hey, baby.” Clarke whispered against her lips. “How was your meeting?” 

“Good.” Lexa answered softly. “Just stuff about next season.” 

She brandished the flowers from behind her back. “These are for you.” 

Clarke blushed, accepting the flowers from Lexa with a soft gasp. “Seriously?” 

“I meant it, I’m asking you on a date.” 

“You don’t need to ask, you know.” 

“I like wooing you.” Lexa replied, detaching as Clarke moved to put the flowers in a vase, after grazing the apple of Lexa’s cheek with a kiss. 

Lexa watched her moved with a bounce in her step, and it played at her heartstrings, the way Clarke was happy, again. 

She’d missed that. 

Abby had retired to the living room, reading a magazine with curious interest, and Clarke tugged Lexa over to the couch where she was sitting. 

Clarke plopped down in between her mother, and where she’d just sat Lexa, sighing happily. She’d missed not having to  _ miss  _ her family. The Delinkru were all in LA, her mother was visiting, and she and Lexa were more than perfect. 

It was truly all she wanted. 

“Hey, you two.” Abby smiled, setting her magazine aside. 

The three curled up on the couch, Clarke sandwiched between Lexa and Abby, possibly the happiest person in the world, in that moment. 

Lexa moved to speak, and then seemed to think better of it, biting her tongue. 

It was, however, enough for Clarke to notice, since she was so perfectly in tune with Lexa’s actions. 

“What is it, Lex?” She nudged Lexa, and Abby glanced up curiously. 

“I...nevermind.” Lexa tried softly. 

Clarke’s brow furrowed, and then her eyes lit up with a certain realization. “Lex. I told my mom, it’s alright.” 

Lexa blinked, her mind flipping back to the Ilian debacle. “You...you did?” 

“Yeah.” Clarke sighed, glancing at Abby.

Abby looked as lethally pissed as Lexa, when Ilian was mentioned. “I still think you should nail the son of a bitch, Lexa. But Clarke told me that wasn’t an option.” 

Lexa nodded, tightening her grip on Clarke slightly, protectiveness practically seeping from her being itself. 

“You’re not...angry with us?” Lexa asked softly. 

Abby shook her head. “I think...parenting isn’t always about reprimand. You’re not little children, and there’s no need to scold you. I’m just sorry that I can protect you from the...awful people you’re going to encounter in this lifetime. And...I’m sorry I wasn’t here, for support, at the very least.” 

Clarke turned, hugging her mother tightly. “Mom. It’s okay, Lexa and I talked it out. We’re all going to be fine.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Abby smiled, closing her eyes, savoring the feel of Clarke in her arms. “You two have grown a lot, it seems.” 

Clarke exchanged a glance with Lexa, who gave her a knowing look and the hint of a supportive smile. 

“You know, I remember your first few weeks dating.” Abby added, smirking as Clarke stiffened. 

“Mom, please don’t-” 

“Clarke would  _ dance  _ around the house in your letterman jacket. She’d run down the stairs in about seventy different outfits every day and ask,  _ would Lexa like this?  _ It was adorable, really.” 

Lexa wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, you  _ did _ ?” She drawled. “Sounds lame, Clarke.” 

Abby laughed, and then doubled back for the kill. “Oh, but let’s not forget Commander Lexa. You’d come into my office, bruised and battered, because you stared too long and hard at Clarke on the sidelines, and got sacked. In practice.” 

Lexa turned beet red. “I…” She stammered. 

Clarke grinned, poking her side. “Who’s lame now?” 

Lexa rolled her eyes, and Clarke pulled her close, sighing. 

“I missed having everyone together.” 

* * *

 

“Lexa?” 

“Clarke?” 

“What should I wear?” Clarke called from the bedroom, where she was watching Lexa come out of the shower, eyes feasting on her girlfriend. 

Wet hair, with just a towel around her. 

Clarke was entranced, to say the least. 

“Whatever you like.” Lexa answered, droplets of water clinging to her lashes.

“Where are we going?” Clarke whined. 

Lexa pursed her lips amusedly. “Not telling.” She replied. “\

Clarke hopped off the bed, going to push Lexa against the counter, pinning her. “Answers, Woods.” 

Lexa chuckled, leaning back relaxedly. “Why are you so eager?” 

“I want to make sure I look as good as you.” Clarke countered. 

“You are the most stunning person on Earth. What you wear doesn’t change that. But I do recommend boots and long pants. And a good jacket.” 

Clarke blinked. “...Okay…” She drawled. “That tells me absolutely nothing.” 

Lexa smirked. “I said as much.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Oh, I am? Why do you look like you want to kiss me?” Lexa teased in a whisper, leaning forward. 

“Because I do.” Clarke admitted, swallowing the lump in her throat. “God, you’re ethereal.” 

Lexa blushed, and Clarke leaned forward, connecting their lips in the softest of kisses. 

Lexa wound her arms around Clarke’s neck, sighing blissfully into their kiss. 

“I love you.” Lexa murmured. 

It was soft, and inviting. 

“I love you more.” Clarke teased, tugging softly at her lower lip. 

Lexa shook her head in protest, pressing her forehead to Clarke’s. 

“We’re going to be late for our date.” Clarke mumbled, distracted. 

Lexa nodded, leaning back. “Sometimes I hate that I make plans.” 

“Plans other than sex?” Clarke prodded, poking her right in the abs, gaping in appreciating when the towel fell. 

“Is that all I am, to you? A hot little piece?” Lexa sniffed. 

“Whoah. Lex.” Clarke paused, caressing her cheek. “You’re so much more to me.” 

Lexa’s smile was softened. 

“You’re  _ also  _ a great furnace for when it’s cold in bed.” Clarke shrugged. 

“You ass.” Lexa laughed, picking up the towel and slapping Clarke’s side with it, careful not to hurt her. 

“Since we’re feeling nostalgic…” Clarke smirked. “Thought you should get a taste of what Lexa Woods was like in high school.” 

“I have to admit.” Lexa pressed up against Clarke, stealing her breath away. “It  _ is  _ attractive.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes, leaning back. “I’m going to go put clothes on.” 

“Why? They’ll just be on my floor later tonight.” Lexa teased, winking at Clarke to finish exaggerating her point. 

“That line is...starkly less... _ fetching  _ when you realize your floor is my floor and it’ll be on there anyway.” Clarke shot back cheekily, leaving Lexa to grin after her. 

* * *

 

“So…” Clarke drawled. “The beach?” 

“Clarke, are you still trying to guess?” Lexa smirked, steering the wheel with ease, her right hand laced with Clarke’s. 

Their favorite position, in the car, it seemed. 

“Well, we passed everything else I can think of.” Clarke shrugged. “And we have a big day tomorrow, what with the revenge plan. So I know we’re not going anywhere outlandish.” 

“Sherlock, take it easy, will you?” Lexa teased. “It’s just a date.” 

“I like guessing.” 

“I know, you have a beautifully creative and inquisitive mind.” Lexa murmured. 

Clarke gasped slightly, leaning back. 

Lexa always caught her off guard with the sweetest compliments. 

“You have to go and throw a wrench into our banter and make me fall in love with you all over again, don’t you?” Clarke whispered. 

Lexa responded by bringing Clarke’s hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to it. 

“I know!” Clarke yelped suddenly. “The mountains! Our hiking spot!” 

Lexa grinned. “Smart  _ and  _ beautiful. I’m a lucky woman.” She praised and Clarke blushed. 

“Hey, Lex?” Clarke asked, after a moment of rubbing her thumb over Lexa’s hand. 

“Love?” Lexa answered, steering the car up the now familiar path. 

“I feel selfish now, because I never got the chance to ask you how you felt.” Clarke murmured, motioning with her hands. “With….all that happened. I mean, your privacy was invaded, too. And in a way, if you hadn’t been involved, this wouldn’t have happened to me. Or, it wouldn’t have been as big of a deal. But you’re...god, you’re gonna be a star.” Clarke pressed her free hand to her cheek in shock. “I just...that’s a lot.” 

Lexa nodded slowly, pulling the car to a stop. 

“Does it overwhelm you?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke frowned. “I thought we weren’t going to make it about me, this time?” 

Lexa sighed. “It  _ is  _ about you.” 

“It’s about you, Lex. About what you want and how you feel.” Clarke pressed. “This is the one conversation we haven’t had yet, and before I go out there and spoil our date, I think we should have it.” 

Lexa pulled her keys from the ignition, sighing. 

“I want whatever makes you happy and keeps us together.” 

“I told you I was with you till the end, but not if it means keeping you from your dreams, Lex. Do you understand that?” Clarke continued. 

“Clarke.” Lexa rubbed her temples. “The stardom...is...I like it. I’ve always liked it. I like being recognized for what I do, I never had that at home. I don’t like the invasive aspects of it, but-” 

“I know you like the attention.” Clarke nudged her playfully. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t like it more than you, though.” 

Clarke shook her head. “Who said it had to be mutually exclusive, Lex? I’m not asking you to choose.” 

Lexa smiled sadly. “You’re not, but I don’t want to put you in that position, Clarke.” 

“Then don’t.” Clarke whispered, grabbing her chin. 

“You’re always going to come first.” Lexa promised, solemn and true. 

“I appreciate that.” Clarke tilted her chin down, eye to eye with Lexa. “But I want you to know that I love you, and I’m along for the ride. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Lexa nodded in agreement, licking her lips. 

“...And it’s cool, dating a celebrity...to-be.” Clarke teased, deciding to lighten the mood. “Will you sign my boobs? Let me take a selfie with you?” 

Lexa rolled her eyes, her chuckle breaking the relative silence. 

“I’m not a celebrity to you, Griffin.” 

“That’s right. You’re just Lexa. My favorite person on Earth.” Clarke whispered. “Now, sorry for distracting you. Shall we?” 

Lexa kissed her softly, nodding once before stepping out. 

* * *

 

“I think this is one of my favorite things to do with you.” Clarke admitted, absolutely wrapped up in Lexa’s arms and several blankets, under the night sky.

Black velvet turned dark blue at its corners, where specks of light dappled the sky, high and far off from the city’s intrusive lights, creating an atmosphere of peace, and serenity. 

“Blowing off our responsibilities for stargazing?” Lexa quipped. 

“Yes.” Clarke smiled, enjoying the soft sensation of Lexa’s fingers tracing little circles into her hand, where they were intertwined. 

“We should do it more often, then.” Lexa sighed loftily. “I’m thinking, when we buy our mansion, because god knows I’m not living in another apartment-” 

“Spoiled brat.” Clarke quipped. 

“Clarke, I can hear our neighbors having sex.” Lexa grimaced. 

Clarke smirked. “Well, two counter-points. Firstly- we’re all college students, so that’s really only a problem here.” 

“What, real adults don’t have sex?” Lexa scoffed. 

“Not six times a day, seven days a week.” 

“That’s a nice batting average.” 

“Such a jock.” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“Your second point?” 

“They can hear  _ us,  _ too.” 

“Is that supposed to be a turn on? Because it is.” 

“I’m just saying, I can see you buying a penthouse.” Clarke prodded her side, eliciting a little giggle from Lexa. 

“Is that what you’d like?” Lexa purred. 

“Oh no you don’t. Wherever we live, I’m paying half the rent.” Clarke scolded. “That’s our deal.” 

“Well, that tears my plan of buying an island.” Lexa sighed in faux disappointment. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Clarke waved her off. “Just wait till my art career takes off. You’ll be  _ my  _ trophy wife.” 

Lexa smirked, nuzzling Clarke affectionately. “The confidence is attractive, Griffin.” 

“It feels good, too. Might not happen, but it doesn’t hurt to believe it could.” 

“Of course it’ll happen.” Lexa tsked. “Your work speaks for itself. It helped me fall in love with you.” 

“It did?” 

“Clarke, there’s a piece of your soul in every single brushstroke. And, I don’t know if you know this, but your soul is the brightest, most vibrant and breathtaking thing I’ve ever known. So, yes, you will be successful, and yes, it’s part of why I fell for you so quickly.” 

Clarke glanced up at Lexa, tears glistening in her eyes. “Sweet Talker.” She whispered fondly, brushing a strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear. 

Lexa pressed a kiss to her forehead, arms tightening around Clarke ever so slightly, bringing her impossibly closer. 

“Another year of our lives, just…” Clarke made a flitting motion with her hand. 

“A little more drama filled than I would’ve liked.” Lexa replied with a nod. “I wish I could just...slow things down. Football, the company, they were all distractions from you.” 

“Oh, all other aspects of life are just a distraction from me, are they?” Clarke teased, slipping her cold hands under Lexa’s clothes, reveling in the warmth. 

“Absolutely.” Lexa nodded seriously. 

“I sure know how to pick ‘em.” Clarke cooed, softly dragging her nails along Lexa’s abs. 

Lexa glanced up at the stars, twinkling along the dark thread of the night sky, and then back at Clarke, with a similar sort of adoration and fascination. 

“Can I tell you what I imagine, for our future?” 

Clarke pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’d love to hear it.” 

Lexa took a breath, as if to finalize her thoughts. 

“Things are going to fall into place so perfectly.” She promised. “Three more years of college, and now that we know the ropes, it’s going to be so much easier. No more extra work, no more weeks without exchanging more than a few words, none of that.” Lexa gushed, and Clarke was enthralled by her words. “Then, graduation. You  _ will  _ be working full time for gallery commissions by that point, make no mistake, Clarke Abigail Griffin.” 

“And you.” Clarke countered, pride dripping from every word. “Alexandria Anastasia Woods, NFL draft, first pick, playing for…. _ Los Angeles? _ ” Clarke guessed. 

“If I have a say in that.” Lexa replied mirthfully. 

“Baby, I’d follow you if you got a job in  _ Texas.” _

Lexa’s brows shot up. “That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” 

Clarke laughed, throwing her head back, and it was a beautiful sound. “I’m all in.” 

Lexa smiled, and blushed hard when Clarke leaned forward, sucking her bottom lip into a kiss. 

Lexa whined softly, and Clarke leaned back. 

“Sorry. I’ll have fun with you after. Please, finish your story.” Clarke motioned with a smile. 

Lexa looked flustered. “Where...where was I?” 

“Graduation.” 

“Right.” Lexa grinned. “Let’s say I’m in the NFL and you’re an artist. We’ll go on a house hunt, you and I. Several. We’ll buy houses across the globe.” 

“You’re a spoiled little monster, aren’t you?” Clarke quipped. 

“I’ll have worked for it all, myself.” Lexa nodded proudly. 

“Oh, question.” Clarke pressed. 

“Yes, love.” 

“Will you kneel at your games?” 

“Obviously.” 

“What if they threaten to kick you off?” 

“Clarke, if I play the way I intend to, the whole damn administration will be kneeling.” 

“Oh. I think I just developed a crush on you.” 

Lexa laughed softly, kissing Clarke’s cheek lazily. 

“Okay, sorry for the interruptions, Lex. Then what?” 

“Then we get our glamorous house, we have our fun years, and then… kids.” She glanced at Clarke quickly. “That’s still on the agenda, right?” 

“Mhmm.” Clarke hummed. “A little Lexa is the plan.” 

“What about a little Clarke?” Lexa pouted. 

“Will you carry?” 

“If my career allows, I don’t see why not.” 

“Then you can have a say.” Clarke teased, pressing herself against Lexa, enticing her with a kiss. “Sounds like quite a plan, baby.” 

“I’m excited.” Lexa admitted, giddy like an adorable school child, and Clarke grinned, pulling her down for a kiss. 

“I love you. So,  _ so  _ much.” Clarke mumbled. 

“I love you too, Clarke. More than you can imagine.” Lexa replied, sliding her hands against Clarke’s hips, eliciting a whine from the blonde. 

“And it all starts with tomorrow night.”

* * *

 

“Woods. Just one more, please.” 

“Jordan. I signed  _ twelve  _ tshirts already.” 

“Please.” Jasper whined. “Your signature is gonna age like a fine wine, and daddy needs his money to fuel the kush business.” 

Lexa glared, as if personally attacked. “Did you just call yourself  _ daddy _ ?” 

Raven snorted. “More like... _ nephew.  _ Anya, though?  _ Daddy _ .” 

Anya choked on her drink in the living room, where Goose was cuddling into her lap. 

“Lincoln?  _ Daddy.” _ Raven nodded approvingly. 

“....Thank you.” Lincoln politely mumbled while Octavia glared. 

“Woods? Daddy as  _ fuck _ .” Raven smirked. 

Lexa froze, blush tinting her cheeks, when she felt arms wrap around her waist from behind, accompanied by the sweet scent of wafting perfume. 

“Don’t use that term on my girlfriend, it’s too...gross.” Clarke chided playfully, kissing Lexa’s shoulder in greeting. 

Lexa turned and gasped, eyes taking in Clarke in her evening dress for the gallery event, looking gorgeous as ever. 

Lexa slowly brought her fingers up to trace Clarke’s cheek, murmuring, “My god, you’re heavenly.” 

Raven smirked once more. “See, Jas? That’s why you can’t keep a girl.” 

Murphy grinned like a shark from his seat. “What did he say to that one girl he was trying to take to prom?” 

Bellamy began laughing, almost choking on his words. “He said,   _ damn, you know what’d look good on you? Me.”  _

“Remember when she snapped his goggles?” Monty laughed. “I could hear his brain rattling around in there.” 

Clarke and Lexa were oblivious to them, foreheads pressed together, simply basking in each other’s presence. 

“...Seriously?” Raven grimaced. “No one else thinks it's weird that they just...do that?” 

“Not all of us are emotionally constipated.” Clarke fired back loftily, earning a grin from Lexa. 

“Down, girl.” Anya cooed, and Raven shrugged, going to sit in Anya’s lap. 

“Are we all ready for tonight?” Lexa asked, turning to the room, her arms wrapped around Clarke’s waist, chin resting on Clarke’s head.

“Of course the  _ Commander  _ is taking charge.” Murphy smirked. “What do you say we get these two meatheads-” He jerked his head at Bellamy and Lincoln, “to hold him upside down. You and Anya can beat on him, and we call it a day.” 

Lexa licked her lips, as if considering the proposition. 

“Lex.” Clarke turned to glance up at her, stirring her from her reverie. 

Lexa kissed her head in reassurance. “We’re sticking to the plan. Everyone know what they’re doing?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yup.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Sure.” 

“Kinda.” 

“Probably.”

“Wait, what was the question?” 

“Yes, baby.” 

Lexa nodded. “And you all brought your formal wear? It  _ is  _ Clarke’s big night.” 

Clarke blushed. “It’s not. I don’t even have a piece to present to Dante. It’s actually supposed to be Ilian’s big night.” 

Lexa smirked. “We’ll see.” 

“Why don’t you have a piece, Clarke?” Octavia asked curiously. 

“With all that happened I just...got too distracted. I was so busy working on the piece we need to make this plan work, I didn’t have time to pour my heart into another one.” Clarke sighed. 

“Why not turn in an old piece?” Bellamy suggested. 

“I can’t. I don’t have any old pieces worth turning in, here. The last good one is back in Arkadia. If I thought ahead, I’d have asked my mom to bring it.” Clarke sighed. 

Lexa frowned. “Clarke, if you told me, I’d have paid to have it shipped out here on time.” 

Clarke smiled, stroking Lexa’s cheek. “Thanks, Lex. But it’s alright, I didn’t think about it.” 

Lexa sighed, and then dodged a pillow hurled at her by Anya. 

She glared, and whipped around, to find her cousin smirking. 

“Sorry. It was getting too cheesy in here.” She shrugged, enjoying the way Lexa flipped her off with a twinkle in her eye. 

* * *

 

“Reminds me of our second date. Or...our third?” Clarke thought aloud, as she and Lexa approached the gallery, hand in hand. “Remember when you threatened Cage?” 

Lexa grinned. “He was a small fry. It was child’s play.” 

“That was  _ so _ hot.” Clarke gushed. “I think I went home after that and had to get myself off-” 

“Really?” Lexa’s brows shot up and she froze in place. 

Clarke blushed. “Too much information? I probably-” 

Lexa’s smirk was Clarke’s answer. 

“Oh my god, seriously? Wipe your ego off your face.” Clarke grinned, linking their hands back together. 

“I didn’t know you-” 

“Of  _ course  _ I did.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “And I’m betting you did, too.” 

“Well,  _ yeah _ -” 

“Great. There’s my mom so please...let’s change the subject.” Clarke winked and Lexa laughed, following along.

“Hey, mom!” Clarke greeted as they neared the entrance of the gallery, lit and decadent. Herds of people in their fine clothes and jewelry trickled in and out, and Clarke took a moment to soak it all in. 

That was her future. 

All she needed to do was show someone like Dante that she belonged. 

It was too bad that she’d blown her chance, this time. 

She glanced at Lexa, and then to her mother. 

With support systems like them, she  _ knew  _ that someday, somehow, she’d get her chance. The thought spread warmth through her chest. 

“Hey girls. You two look beautiful!” Abby herself had come wearing a dress, and Clarke had to think, Kane was probably sorry he couldn’t make it. 

“Thank you, you look beautiful, mom.” Clarke enveloped her in a hug. “Thanks for coming. I know you’re busy.” 

Abby sighed, hugging Clarke so tightly she thought she’d combust. “Clarke. You are my priority. Nothing is more important.” She gushed as she held her daughter, chancing a glance at Lexa over Clarke’s shoulder. She winked at Lexa, who seemed to know something she did. 

“Lexa, come on, get in here.” Abby opened her other arm, guiding Lexa in as she hugged the two tightly.

Clarke murmured an inaudible thank you into Abby’s chest, likely for including Lexa, and just for being there. 

The three took a long moment, savoring the feel, before Abby leaned back. 

“So, Clarke. This is  _ gorgeous.  _ Did you set up the lights?” Abby asked. 

Clarke nodded. “Painstakingly. With Ilian looking over my shoulder the whole time. He made me redo them like six or seven times. He’s out to kill me, I think.” 

Abby looked grim. “The son of a bitch.” She mumbled, and when Clarke and Lexa glanced at her in surprise, she covered her mouth. “Sorry. Clarke, were you here alone with him?” 

Clarke shook her head. “I tried, but Lexa wouldn’t let me. She stayed and helped me the whole time, after school. She was exhausted.” 

From inside, classical music was flowing, graceful and tender to the ear. 

Clarke glanced up. “I should go in and greet everyone. I’m kind of working tonight, after all. Thanks for coming, guys.” 

Abby and Lexa nodded. “We’ll see you inside?” Abby called. 

Lexa leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Clarke’s cheek. 

“Bye, for now.” Lexa murmured, and with a smile, she let Clarke slip off into the crowd. 

“So, the rest of the group should be here any-Whoa.” Lexa nearly stumbled when she was pulled into another hug by Abby. 

She closed her eyes, hugging Abby back fondly, waiting until she cleared her throat to speak. 

Abby had tears in the corners of her eyes when she murmured, “Thank you, Lexa. Thank you for doing the right thing, and taking care of Clarke.” 

Lexa nodded immediately. “Of course.” She replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, Abby...I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop-” 

“No.” Abby shook her head. “I know you, Lexa. You’re perfect for her. Don’t think like that. Sometimes I….I just forget how wonderful you are. Your mother and father are so proud, and if it’s not too much...I’m proud, too.” 

Lexa smiled, stricken by Abby’s words. 

All that time, she’d been fighting for her parent’s approval. The job, the overtime hours, her feud with Alie, the sleepless nights...all for what Abby was giving her, simply for doing what she knew to be right. 

Abby, who’d become a mother figure, to Lexa. 

“So…” Abby smirked as she saw the Delinkru coming from down the street, where they’d all parked. Bellamy and Lincoln were carrying a very large looking canvas. “You guys picked it up from my hotel room alright?” 

Lexa smiled. “Yes. Thank you for taking the time to bring it so abruptly. I don’t know how you managed to leave work on such short notice. There was no conference, was there?” 

Abby laughed. “No, there wasn’t. But it was worth it, for Clarke. I can’t wait to see her face.” 

Lexa nodded. “We’ll have to do this discreetly, though.” 

Abby agreed silently. “Oh. And Lexa?” 

“Yes?” 

“I want you to crucify this son of a bitch for even  _ thinking  _ about touching my daughter.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

* * *

 

“Whoa. Snazzy.” Raven murmured, arm in arm with Anya, looking like a pair of spies from a Bond movie, in their gowns. 

“I’m proud of Clarke.” Anya nodded, speaking softly. “After we kill this Ilian kid, we should take her out to properly celebrate.” 

Raven smiled. “Look who has feelings.” 

“Me? Never.” Anya smirked, feeling Lincoln’s hand on her shoulder. “You two moved the  _ package  _ into position in the back room?” 

Lincoln nodded, sharing a glance with Bellamy. “Yup. Now we just have to keep that jerk from going back there.” 

“Jerk?” Octavia smirked, “That’s the closest you’ve come to cussing all week.” 

Lincoln shrugged abashedly. “He hurt Clarke. And what kind of family member would I be if I didn’t let a little loose?” 

“Aw, that’s the cutest thing ever.” Octavia leaned up for a kiss, smiling against his lips. 

“Can you not?” Bellamy complained. 

“Shut up, just cause Gina’s not here.” Octavia rolled her eyes. 

Monty and Jasper tagged along behind, each with a flute of champagne in their underaged hands. 

Murphy paused at the door, waiting for Lexa to enter. 

He put his arm out, and Lexa accepted, the two smirking madly. 

They looked like the perfect couple from hell, angels of death ready to wreak havoc on a holy event. 

“Too bad Emori’s visiting her parents. She would have loved to see me in a tux.” Murphy remarked with a dry sort of humor. 

“Too bad Clarke’s working at the displays. She would have loved to see you and I playing nice.” Lexa countered with a little smile. 

“So, did Abby give you the old threat talk?” Murphy asked, his eyes raking the crowd. 

Lexa tsked. “More like,  _ Kill Ilian for me.”  _

Murphy smirked at that. “That can be arranged.” 

“Clarke said no.” Lexa sighed. “And don’t call me whipped because I  _ know  _ you wear monogrammed underwear for Emori.” 

“How the fuck do you-” 

“I have the nickname for a reason.” 

“....Right. So uh...Douchenozzle at seven o’clock.” Murphy jerked his head to Ilian, who was standing towards the far corner, conversing with Dante Wallace himself, no doubt hyping up his own work. 

“...And that’s going to be the piece he’s revealing to Dante.” Lexa nodded, jerking her head to the large and empty easel in the center of the room. “It’s Clarke’s job to bring out his piece, which will be covered, and then he gets to unveil it in front of Dante.” 

“And this makes or breaks him, right?” 

Lexa scowled. “If this doesn’t break him, I will.” 

“...Sounds like a plan. But how do we keep Ilian from going in the back room to check on his piece?”

Lexa shrugged. “We’ll let the others handle it. I’m told he’s quite taken with Anya.” 

Murphy grinned. “Yeah. That was classic. Hope Reyes doesn’t bust a gut, though.” 

Lexa hadn’t seen Clarke approach. She’d only heard her voice when Clarke sounded, “Well don’t you two make a beautiful couple.” 

“...and that’s my cue to leave.” Murphy grumbled. “Great work, Griffin. Looks amazing.” 

Clarke blushed a little and smiled. “Thanks, John.” She nudged him as he passed. 

Clarke turned to Lexa, who’d already extended her arms out to her girlfriend, who immediately slipped into them. 

“Do you like it?” Clarke asked softly. 

Lexa nodded, eyes catching Clarke’s. “I wish your work was front and center.” She admitted. “Are they working you too hard?” 

Clarke tsked. “Nothing I can’t handle. I haven’t spoken to Dante yet.” She admitted. “I keep wanting to approach him, but Ilian’s there.” 

Lexa’s jaw twitched, and Clarke smirked amusedly. 

“Down, girl.” 

“Clarke, I can come with you.” 

“Lex, I’m not afraid. I just don’t want to seem like I’m trying to grab his attention, you know?” 

“You are too sweet for your own good.” Lexa murmured affectionately. “Come on. Let’s make a lasting impression.” 

“Lex?” Clarke questioned, but followed as Lexa led the way to Dante. 

“Trust me.” Lexa nudged her side. 

“I do.” 

Dante was conversing with Ilian, expression undecipherable as they approached. It was Dante’s gaze that flicked towards them first, setting Ilian off. 

Ilian spun around. “-And that’s why I- Oh.” He paused. “Clarke.” He offered. “Woods.” 

“Clarke Griffin.” Dante extended his hand with a cheerful smile. “A pleasure to see you. And Alexandria. My, you’ve grown.” 

Clarke blinked, almost stumbling over her own words. 

“You...remember me?” Clarke blinked, clearly as shocked as Ilian, if his face was anything to go by. 

“I don’t employ just anyone, Ms. Griffin. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been working on. Will you be making a grand reveal like Ilian, here?” 

Clarke had half a mind to tell him what Ilian had done, but she bit her tongue, aiming to keep everything strictly professional. 

At least, for now. 

“No.” Clarke explained regretfully. “Things have been a little too hectic for me. I had hoped to, but…” 

“Shame.” Dante nodded. “I looked forward to seeing some of your work.” 

Clarke nodded, downcast, but Lexa leapt in. “How are you, Dante?” 

Ilian scowled. “It’s Mr. Wallace-” 

“Ah, nonsense.” He waved his hand. “I’ve known Alexandria for ages.” He smiled wryly. “I’m well. How are you? I hear you’ve worked up quite the title here, for yourself.” 

Lexa smiled, careful to divert the attention off herself and onto Clarke. “Thank you, I’ve been working hard with football and business. Actually, I wanted to know how long you’d be in town for?” 

Dante looked thoughtful. “About a week, I’d say.” 

“Would you mind coming over to the office to catch up?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke blinked. She’d known the Woods were long time investors. It hadn’t occurred to her that Lexa was willing to use her prowess to get what she needed. 

“I would love to. Ilian, won’t you make sure all of our key patrons are here tonight?” 

Ilian paused, and then nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” 

Lexa’s brows shot up. “Would the two of you excuse me, a moment?” She offered, leaving a confused Clarke behind to talk to Ilian. 

Lexa nearly had to jog to catch up to Ilian, thanking whatever deities there were that she’d ended up wearing a suit that night instead of a gown that would’ve slowed her down. 

“Ilian!” She called, and he whipped around, a scowl on his expression. 

“Woods.” He sneered. “Should’ve known you’d buy your way into this event, too.” 

Lexa rolled her eyes, eyeing the door to the back room. He still had some way to go. If she played her cards right, she could distract him.

Lexa wanted to slam him against the wall and put him in a choke hold, but she knew better. She couldn’t reveal to him that she  _ knew.  _ He’d ask how, and why, and Monty and Jasper would be put on the line for the  _ less than legal  _ activities they’d conducted to get the confirmation. 

“I know you hit on Clarke.” Instead Lexa fronted, hoping to get a rise out of him in some other way. 

Ilian stopped in his tracks, and he wore a smirk. 

A shit eating little smirk that made Lexa want to  _ kill  _ him. 

“Getting a little territorial there, are we, Woods?” He grinned. 

Lexa took a step closer, glancing over her shoulder. The only person who was watching was Abby, who’d watched with narrowed eyes. She gave Lexa a curt sort of nod. 

Lexa pressed in, Ilian against the wall.

The way she stood in front of him, it was barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t know what to look for. 

To Lexa’s surprise, Ilian wasn’t cowering in fear. He barely even flinched. 

“Oh, look.” He smirked wryly. “Here comes the famous Woods temper. I heard about what you did to that kid...Dex? Dax? I can’t remember. I’d watch my temper, if I were you. That scholarship doesn’t mean shit once you’ve landed behind bars.” 

Lexa’s entire body tensed like a plucked bowstring. Her shoulders rose, her teeth were gritted, her jaw clenched. Her veins pulsed and she looked like a feral tiger, ready to hunt its prey. 

Ilian was playing  _ her  _ it seemed, ready to get her to make a fool of herself in front of Dante, in front of Clarke, in front of everyone. 

“I’m not Dax.” Ilian smirked. “I think, judging by description, I’ve gotta be...twice his size. So, even if you  _ did  _ get what you wanted, Woods, who’s to say I wouldn’t give you the ass kicking you deserve?” 

Lexa closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. 

He was fucking with her, utterly and completely. 

And it was working. 

“Listen.” She managed to choke out, her body nearly shaking with the tension. “I will  _ fucking  _ burn-” 

“Hey.” Anya and Lincoln’s arms wrapped around Lexa’s, pulling her back, likely at Abby’s behest. “Let’s get some air, yeah?” 

Ilian’s smirk was wiped right off his face. “You?” He blinked, glancing at Anya. 

Behind them, the other delinquents shuffled into view, Abby at the rear, like a mafia family out with a lust for Ilian’s blood. 

“Me.” Anya smirked, putting an arm around Lexa. 

“And you…” Ilian mumbled, glancing at Bellamy. “You were drunk at the-” 

“Guilty.” Bellamy grinned. “For the record, you might be bigger than her, but my money’s still on Woods.” 

Lincoln nodded. “Don’t forget, she has us.” 

“I don’t know if I can fight all that well but I hear a metal brace up the ass really hurts.” Raven smirked. 

“You, too?” Ilian blinked, utter confusion crossing his features. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“You hit on  _ my _ girlfriend, too.” Raven added with bite in her tone. “As if she’d ever fall for your musty ass.” 

Murphy stepped to the front, a wicked grin on his features. “Man, I’ve been waiting for this, all year.” 

Ilian seemed to understand something was wrong, and shot up from his position back by the wall. “I don’t know what you all think you’re planning, but-” 

“Alright!” Dante announced, tapping the edge of his champagne flute with a knife. “May I have your attention, everyone?” 

Everyone froze, their voices dying down to hear what the master critic and curator had to say. 

“As you all know, we have young resident artists here, working full time to ensure the success of our gallery. A special round of applause to Ilian and Clarke, who have prepared special pieces for us to view today!” Dante announced, and was met with thunderous applause. 

Lexa turned and grinned at Clarke, clapping loudly as ever. 

The Delinquents cheered for Clarke, bringing a crimson blush to her cheeks as they did so. 

“Clarke, would you be so kind as to fetch the piece? Take Ilian with you.” Dante tapped her shoulder, and she nodded, hurrying towards the back room, where everyone she knew had gathered. 

“Ilian?” She asked, and he grunted, stepping and hitting Lexa’s shoulder as he did. 

They disappeared into the back room. 

“You replaced it, right?” Lexa turned to Bellamy and Lincoln. 

“Yeah.” Bellamy nodded. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to plan.” 

“Good. Let’s burn this guy once and for all.” 

* * *

 

Within a few minutes, the piece, still covered by a cloth, was put up onto the easel, facing the crowd that had gathered. 

Lexa stepped up behind Clarke, rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. 

Ilian beamed like a shark, turning to the crowd, ready to be praised for his hours upon hours of work. 

“I’m nervous.” Clarke admitted. 

“Breathe.” Lexa whispered by her ear. 

Clarke swore, Lexa was her guardian angel. No other voice could keep her panic attacks at bay like Lexa’s. 

“Are you afraid of getting into trouble?” Lexa murmured, trying to soothe her and assess the issue. 

Clarke smirked amusedly. “No. I’m just afraid it won’t do Ilian justice.” 

Lexa laughed softly. “It will, love.” 

Clarke leaned back into her embrace. 

Dante moved back to the center of the crowd, his hand on Ilian’s shoulder. “And now, Ilian, tell us what the name of your piece is, and why, before we unveil it?” 

Ilian’s chest puffed proudly. “I call it,  _ Legacy,  _ because I think it perfectly represents who I am as a person, and who I want to be.” 

Clarke grinned, and Lexa kissed her cheek to muffle her own laughter. 

“Alright. Excellent. Please, do the honors.” Dante motioned, and Ilian stepped forward, yanking on the cloth with a mighty tug. 

Several gasps filled the room. 

It seemed, no one knew what to expect. 

But certainly not  _ that.  _

It was grotesque, somehow. 

Clarke leaned back into Lexa’s embrace, grinning as Ilian cried, “That’s not mine! That’s not mine! Wait, Mr. Wallace, wait!” 

His cries were almost drowned out by the voices of the appalled crowd. 

The canvas, too large to be ignored, was covered in elegant and intricately painted faces of women, and girls, from the ages of twenty five to twelve. Their eyes seemed gaunt, and hollow. Though it wasn’t typically in Clarke’s repertoire, she’d taken it upon herself to master caligraphy with a brush, to the point where she could write bolded headlines. Certain words stood out, more than others.  _ Forced, violated, hurt, abuse, sexual, grope,  _ the list went on and on. 

At the very center, in curved writing, spelled:  _ Ilian’s Legacy.  _

Already, patrons were snapping photos, left and right, and Dante’s eyes were scanning the work. 

The Delinquents were roaring their approval, clapping loudly. Ilian moved to take down the offending art, stopped by Dante’s hand on his arm. 

“Whose is this?” Dante asked, firmly. 

Ilian wheeled around on Clarke. Lexa moved to stand in front of her defensively, but Clarke didn’t flinch. 

“It’s mine.” Clarke replied, and a ripple of shock ran through the crowd again. 

Abby watched from where she stood, proud as ever, ready to pounce, just as Lexa was. 

“Clarke.” Dante began, licking his lips. “This...is rather accusatory.” 

“That was my intention.” Clarke replied, eyeing Ilian fiercely. 

“She sabotaged my work! She was jealous!” Ilian cried, outraged. 

“Your work is in the back, where I left it.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “This is  _ retribution _ .” 

“Clarke, this is unacceptable.” Dante began. “This was a rare and special occasion, and-” 

“Ilian invaded Clarke’s privacy, hacked into her private account, shared private photos of her with the internet, causing the largest scandal at Polis U to date, and he punished her for not accepting his advances. He knew full well she was in a relationship, but that doesn’t even matter.” Lexa replied, poised, chin up, all the grace of the Woods family coursing within her. 

Dante paused, scowling. “Ilian, I-” 

“What?!” Ilian practically shrieked. “You have no proof-” 

“But we do.” Lexa countered. “You told me yourself about Dax. I know no one else told you about that. How did you hear about it, besides hacking Clarke’s icloud, Ilian?” 

Ilian balked. 

So Lexa had played  _ him.  _

“I...the school paper! I have friends who went to Arkadia!” Ilian seethed. 

“Who?” Raven demanded. “It was never  _ in  _ the paper. That’s a private affair.” 

Ilian whipped around. “Dante, you cannot be-” 

“It’s Mr. Wallace.” He ground out, turning to Ilian. 

Ilian froze, realizing what was happening. They were turning against him. 

“You, though.” Clarke smirked, pointing at Ilian. “You are  _ very  _ storied here at Polis. All it took was asking around with my new status as “violated, but moving on” to get a few other girls to share with me the shit you’ve been pulling since day one. Those faces? All real. The words? True stories. So, I just wanted to share your legacy, Ilian.” She shrugged innocently. 

Ilian had a cold sweat running down his forehead. “Mr. Wallace...Patrons...you have to believe me, I never did any of this-” 

“I thought you’d say that.” A voice sounded from behind the delinquents. 

It was Ashley, the girl that had stopped Clarke at school, just to tell her of her ex-boyfriend’s similar exploits. 

The same ex boyfriend standing in front of the group of patrons, turned to a jury. 

“Ash?” Ilian blinked. 

“I’ve heard enough.” Dante waved his hand. “Ilian...I...I don’t know what to say. I can’t...No, I  _ won’t  _ condone this. Not anywhere near my business, and not at all, frankly. I think...it’s best if you leave.” 

Ilian gaped. “You cannot be serious-” 

“I will have security escort you, if that proves necessary.” Dante threatened. 

Ilian knew he had no choice. 

His luck had run out. 

* * *

 

After all the commotion with Ilian’s dismissal, the patrons slowly began to flood out, excitement at what they’d just witnessed spilling from their lips. 

The Delinquents had all booed him out, and Abby had embraced Clarke tightly, whispering a litany of “I’m so proud”, over and over again. 

It wasn’t every day that one’s daughter successfully exposed someone without morals, let alone at the expense of her own work. 

Clarke had been in the middle of explaining how she’d found Ilian’s past exploits, and how she’d gotten them to cooperate, when Dante approached her. 

Clarke stiffened, glancing up. “Dante…” She began with a sigh. “I’m so sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” His smile was apologetic. “Art is expression, it’s progress, it’s bringing to light what would otherwise be ignored, or overlooked.” 

Clark paused, looking confused. 

“So...I’d be proud to debut that piece at my New York gallery.” He finished. “...Legality aside.” He grinned slightly. 

“That?” Clarke balked. 

“It’s good art.” Dante smirked. “I would know.” 

“Really?” Clarke froze. “Because I have so many pieces, I just...I wanted to show them to you, but I left them at home, and-” 

“You didn’t.” Lexa interjected softly. “I had Abby bring them over. They’re back at the office.” 

Clarke gaped. 

Dante smiled. “And I  _ will  _ be paying the office a visit later this week, won’t I?” 

Clarke couldn’t breathe. It was like her panic attacks, but  _ blissful,  _ somehow. She didn’t know how she’d ever been so lucky to surround herself with such amazing people. 

Her family, she realized. 

Her family had taken care of everything she’d forgotten. 

She’d slipped, right into the safety net of Lexa, and everyone else’s doing. 

“I look forward to sponsoring you, officially, Clarke.” Dante stuck his hand out. “I’ll be in touch.” 

Clarke shook his hand in her shaking one, trying to make it seem firm enough, before her turned away to direct the clean up. 

Clarke wheeled around on Lexa, and the rest of her family, who’d been watching with wide grins, proud of their champion of the evening. 

Clarke couldn’t even speak. 

She’d choked on the words she tried to mumble, throwing her arms around Lexa’s neck, burying her face there as Lexa pulled her into the tightest of embraces. 

“You did this.” Clarke whispered, muffled by her neck, just enough for Lexa to hear. 

Lexa closed her eyes, holding Clarke tightly, kissing her head once. 

“I didn’t. You did. I just helped out, Clarke.” 

Clarke shook her head, glancing up at Lexa with glassy eyes of blue. 

“I...I…” 

“Breathe.” Lexa reminded once more. 

“I love you.” Clarke blurted. “I don’t know how you do it, but every day, I love you more.” 

Lexa grinned, meeting Clarke in a messy little kiss. “I love you, too.” 

Clarke took a minute to process everything that just happened. 

She’d gone from thinking she’d lose her job as an  _ intern  _ in Dante’s gallery to being  _ featured.  _

“I…” Clarke stammered. She took a step back, regarding her friends with a glowing gaze. “All of you, I love you guys…” 

They did what they did best. 

Slowly, they embraced Clarke in quite the cheesy group hug, Abby included. 

Slow murmurs of, “You did it” and “Way to go Clarke” filled the expanse of the gallery, and Clarke swore, her mind was buzzing with the joy she felt. 

Her legs felt numb, and when they buckled a little, Lexa was there, as always, to catch her, laughing brightly, joyously. 

As if her joy was contagious. 

“Thank you.” Clarke whispered, clutching Lexa like a lifeline. 

“Of course.” Lexa replied, her voice a guiding beacon in all the tumultuousness of what was happening. “Your future looks bright, Griffin.” She added, a teasing little lilt to her tone. 

Clarke glanced up into her forest eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. 

A blissful smile crossed both their features. 

A future, with Lexa. 

With all of them. 

“Yeah.” Clarke murmured, once again lost in a familiar, loving gaze. “Yeah, it does.”    
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who reads, leaves kudos, and comments after every chapter. It means the world to me that you all love this universe as much as I do, and I only hope to build on it as long as I can! So many adventures to be had, and with the fandom dying, I feel it's more necessary than ever, so long as I have the inspiration! 
> 
> I'm gonna copy the message in the head note: Thanks everyone for coming along for the ride! Before I get flooded with the question, "Is this the end?" Nope, as stated before, if you haven't been following the clexa-hsau blog on tumblr, you should! This is the end of the college installment of the series. The next will be tackling their young adult/professional lives, and I don't know if it will be posted here, so please follow the tumblr for updates! 
> 
> See you all in a bit! 
> 
> -Nicole

**Author's Note:**

> ...This will be an interesting ride. 
> 
> Follow clexa-hsau on tumblr for all things in the hsau/college au universe!


End file.
